Heat
by roguefire28
Summary: After the events of Frozen Alex, Sarah, Dean and Sam are together again for an all new job. They find themselves squared off against a troubled teenager with deadly mental powers. And the fires are beginning to burn in their own personal lives with each o


Heat

Alexis Delaney, known to those who actually knew her as Alex, knocked on the door to the Victorian style three story house and stepped back, listening for the sound of footsteps. The house was eerily silent in the early twilight hours and, now that she thought about it, so was the entire street. It was still too early in the night for everyone to be heading off to their warm beds. She suppressed a chill fingering its way up her spine and knocked on the door again, a little more insistently and with much less patience.

Her friend, Heather Thornton, had called her two days ago in a state of panic. Alex had very few friends. Heather had been her friend from her old life, the one prior to hunting down things that go bump in the night, and one of the handful that Alex actually attempted to keep in contact with. By contact that meant Heather had her cell phone number. Heather's phone call had been frantic and desperate. She had claimed there was something in her house and it was becoming violent. Alex had taken off immediately for small town Texas and she had only just arrived. Her intent was to remove Heather from the house before she got hurt, then come back and put an end to the threat after she had thrown in some research time. Alex sighed heavily. It was times like these that she missed her twin sister, Allison, the most. They had been such a kick-ass team together and then it was all stolen away. Now she worked alone since her other sister, Sarah, was trying out college for a semester in California and from time to time, with those two brothers who always showed up on her gigs. She hadn't seen them in awhile though; maybe they were off on some crazy job halfway across the country. The thought brought a hint of a smile to her lips. Although, she could have sworn she saw a more than familiar black car going the same way she was . . . . . . .

Snapping herself from her idle thoughts Alex proceeded to pound on the door. She no longer cared about waking the neighbors if indeed they were in bed. Heather could be in trouble. Between heavy thumps on the sturdy maple-brown door Alex heard a muffled crash followed by what could have been a cry.

"Heather!" she yelled.

Alex backed away from the door and gave it a solid kick near the door handle. Wood splintered and the door gave an inch, but refused to crash open like it always did in the movies. She reared back again and kicked it with all her strength. The door gave and flew open revealing an entry hall lit only by the full moon rising at Alex's back. Alex rushed into the house and paused to listen again just outside the entry hall. It occurred to her that this was dangerous, charging in unprepared. She didn't know what she was dealing with, hadn't had time to investigate, and in her line of work that could be deadly. However, she had little choice but to proceed half-assed now. Heather was in trouble. To her left was a dining room and probably the kitchen. Straight ahead of her a room opened into what seemed to be the main living area and she thought she could make out a staircase in the far corner. To her right was a door, most likely a hall closet for coats and other odds and ends. She proceeded cautiously toward the living area, moving in a half-crouch with her knees slightly bent as she walked. The house had fallen silent again. Alex felt a strange electric charge in the air as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She shuddered involuntarily, wanting to go back to her car for some kind of equipment but knowing it wouldn't help. Every second counted and she didn't even know what to get. _Penalty for not knowing your enemy_, she thought. _Get to go into a fight blind and dumb_. Well, if something not-quite-normal was in residence here her sneaking around wasn't going to make a difference.

"Heather! Answer me!" she screamed. "Where the hell are you?"

The sound of running footsteps in the hall overhead broke the silence with a fury. Sobbing accompanied the footfalls like an orchestra of violins would accompany a bass. The drumbeat of running feet was punctuated by a resounding crash. It sounded like a lamp had been thrown against a wall upstairs.

"Heather?"

"Alex! Alex oh god, help me!"

Alex ran full tilt up the staircase that lead to the second floor. She took the steps two at a time and looked up to see Heather's figure appear at the top of the stairs. As she neared her friend an invisible force slammed into her, pitching her sideways against the railing. She fought to keep her balance but she was hit again, harder this time, with enough fury to jolt her entire body as if it had been electrocuted. She felt violently ill and had to suppress the urge to vomit even as she realized she was falling. She barely registered Heather screaming her name.

She tumbled down the stairs, somehow managing to protect her head as well as she could as she fell, each step causing a jolt of pain as she hit it. She hit the bottom in a heap of bruised and battered body parts. Her vision swam as she tried to regain her focus and her senses. She saw Heather starting down the stairs towards her and managed to unsteadily regain her footing. Her ankle flashed with pain so hot she almost fell again.

"Stay there! Heather, stay there!" she commanded.

Heather halted in her tracks, glancing around warily for something she could not see. Alex did the same, backing away from the foot of the stairs and slowly back into the living room. The air in the room was so charged it felt as if Alex were trying to breathe underwater. She realized distantly that her left shoulder was dislocated.

It was times like this she wanted nothing more than to have her demonic side back. She had been born with it since her father was possessed at the time of her and Allison's conception, but it had eventually become too hazardous to continue having. She had come dangerously close to giving in to the sway of evil inside herself. The power that had been stripped from her hung in a crystal amulet from her neck. She had gone and had it removed by a priest in Florence right before Sarah had gone off for college. The ritual had stripped away her demonic half and in order for it to remain unused by another form of evil they had directed the power into the crystal she now wore. The crystal, originally clear, had turned onyx black. She knew that if shattered the crystal would release the power inside it and it would enter whoever was closest at the time of its release. The road had been incredibly hard learning how to fight without the added advantage of extra strength, speed, and the ever useful self-healing, but Alex had managed. There were many times when she felt weak and useless, and more recently she had been getting herself into hot water that was hard to jump back out of. She was beginning to think this was one of those times.

"What is it!" Heather cried, frightened.

"Poltergeist."

No sooner had the word left her mouth Alex felt the invisible force slam into her body again, launching her off her feet and across the room. She slammed into the far wall and felt the drywall break around her, showering her with white chunks of plaster. The poltergeist picked her up again before she could move and threw her into the coffee table in the middle of the room with enough force to break it underneath her. _This thing is going to kill me! _

"Heather, GET OUT!" Alex screamed. "Run! Get out!"

She climbed to her feet and felt the floor swirl beneath her. Hot, sticky fluid ran down the side of her face, originating from a cut on her forehead. Alex felt the searing pain of a nasty abrasion across her right shoulder. Good. At least she still had enough of her senses to feel pain. Heather ran down the rest of the stairs and out the front door as Alex had told her to do. She felt relief knowing that Heather was safe outside, but wondered how exactly she was going to get out of the living room to join her. As if sensing her thoughts of escape the poltergeist attacked again, attempting to keep her off balance. A piece of the broken table levitated itself into the air and jabbed at her, drawing a fresh cut across her ribs and tearing her black tank top. A second piece hit her from behind, across the shoulders, knocking her back to her knees and swung back up to collide with her face, throwing her backwards. She landed sprawled against the front of the couch and somehow managed to climb into a crouch. Blood dripped from her nose and split lip onto the plush beige carpet. Alex barely registered lights sweeping across the front of the house. The same piece from the first assault smashed into the side of her head and face again. Alex found herself on her back without even knowing how she got there. She fought against the pull of blackness threatening to overwhelm her and again got to her knees. Something thick and cold slid around her throat and jerked taut, cutting off her supply of air. She clawed at it with trembling hands that looked like they had been put through a meat grinder. She hadn't come here prepared to fight the thing, just to get Heather out. Now it looked like she would die for the mistake.

Dean pulled the 67' Chevy Impala into the driveway of the house where Alex had parked her car just as a pretty, brown haired young woman came flying out of the front door. Sam climbed out of the car in a hurry, slamming the door shut behind him. Dean was out a second later wondering what the woman was in such a hurry for. He smiled inwardly. Knowing Alex, she would have his head for showing up like this. Alex liked to work alone and even though they had fought together before she never liked it when the two brothers showed up on the same jobs she was working.

The two brothers had been heading to Louisiana to investigate a rash of murders along a stretch of the Bayou. They had seen Alex on the way and decided to follow her; wondering what the fiery redhead was up to this time. Dean smiled again at the thought of the ass-chewing he was going to be on the receiving end of. He would never tell her, but Alex was so cute when she was mad. He moved past the car and started towards the house but paused at the level of panic in the woman's voice.

"Oh God! Oh please help!" the woman cried, practically throwing herself into Sam's arms. Sam caught the frightened woman and tried to calm her enough to make sense of her words.

"Calm down. What's going on?" he asked.

Sam was definitely the more sensitive of the two brothers. Sam had a way of connecting with the people they helped that Dean found hard to achieve. To Sam, helping the people in danger was just as important as stopping the evil that threatened them. Even though Dean often felt the same way, he rarely ever showed it like Sammy did. Dean preferred to get things done as opposed to the talking and research end of the gig. He wasn't great with words or showing emotion. _Which is probably why I still haven't said anything to Alex about how I really feel._ He watched and shifted impatiently while Sam worked to calm the woman.

"Now," he said after the sobs had subsided. "Tell us what happened."

"The . . .the ghost. It's in there! I didn't believe it but it's there. And Alex . . . .," she trailed off, a look of fresh horror painted across her fair face. "Oh god. Alex is still in there!"

"What?" Dean demanded. "Oh shit."

He took off at a run for the house. "Take the car! Get her out of here!" he yelled over his shoulder. He saw Sam moving the woman towards the car with his arm around her shoulders out of the corner of his eye.

Dean ducked through the doorway, noting the splintered door had been forcibly kicked in. The house was quiet now and he cursed himself for not getting there sooner. Alex could be seriously hurt or dead by now. Outside he could hear the muffled sobs of the woman and then a car door slamming shut. He could hear the sobs no more. A second car door shutting and then the roar of an engine. Good, Sam was doing as he said. At least he wouldn't have to worry about the two of them. He eased his way through the entry hall, acutely aware of any danger. He didn't have a clue as to what occupied the house. From what he could see of the living room it was a wreck. Wood and plaster was strewn across the floor as if a bomb had gone off. He stopped, cocking his head to listen. There was nothing to greet him but heavy silence. Too heavy.

"Alex!" he yelled.

Alex heard a male's voice yell her name, but it filtered through her brain at a snail's pace. She thought the voice belonged to Dean Winchester, but her mind was so fuzzy she couldn't be sure. It was as if the voice were calling to her from a long tunnel, echoing off the endless walls. She struggled against the electrical cord wrapped around her throat to no avail. Her limbs were going numb and her head was swimming in a sea of black. Red spots flashed before her eyes. All the strength she possessed was ebbing rapidly out of her body. She was dimly aware that she was being pulled up the stairs by the electrical cord. She used all the strength she had to lift her right foot and pound it as hard as she could against the wooden steps beneath her.

Dean heard a muffled thump coming from what seemed to be the staircase. He bolted through the living room, nearly tripping over the strewn debris. In the dim light he made out Alex, being dragged up the stairs by a force he couldn't see.

"Alex!" he cried and rushed up the stairs.

An electrical cord was wrapped tightly around her slender throat. It originated from the hall upstairs and was slowly pulling her unconscious form up to the second level. He pulled a hunting knife from the sheath he carried in the small of his back and bent over Alex, sawing frantically at the orange cord just above her head. The cord snapped apart and Dean wasted no time in gathering her into his arms and rushing back down the stairs. A piece of wood sailed over his head and crashed into the wall ahead of him as he ducked into the entry hall. He barreled out the front door before the poltergeist had a chance to slam it closed, glad that Alex didn't weigh much and was hardly a burden to carry. He hurried across the front lawn, being careful to hold her tight and not jar her around too much. He reached the sidewalk and eased her down onto the ground, holding her head in his lap in an attempt to keep it from hitting the concrete. Dean yanked on the orange cord still wrapped around her throat and pulled it off, throwing it into the yard in disgust. Behind him the front door slammed close.

He leaned down, placing his ear close to her mouth and nose, and placed his fingers on her throat feeling for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. Her breath came in shallow inhalations.

"Come on Alex. You're tougher than this," he lamented.

He noted the many bleeding cuts and blossoming bruises all over her body. She had taken quite a beating, it would seem. He remembered the days when she didn't need a first aid kit; her body came complete with one. After every battle her wounds would stitch themselves shut, a handy trick Dean had always been jealous of. She would kill him if he took her to a hospital. She had stated quite clearly in their last adventure together that she hated hospitals. Alex gasped, her lungs filling with oxygen. She coughed violently as her swollen airways expanded too soon and too quickly for the sudden flood of air. Dean held her shuddering, spasming body close and tried to muffle the noise. _The cops are probably already on their way_, he thought wryly.

"Dean?"

Her voice came out in a strained whisper, sounding like sandpaper against skin. The effort to speak obviously cost her a lot, as she was soon wracked with another violent coughing fit. She lifted her head slightly to look at him but the strain was too much. She slumped back into his arms unconscious again. He did a quick search through her pockets until he found the key to her car. Picking her up easily in his arms he opened the passenger side door and set her in the seat, taking the time to buckle her in and lay the seat back. He hesitated for a moment and leaned back in to brush a stray strand of red hair from her face.

"You're gonna be all right kiddo," he said gently.

It was as close to sensitive and sweet as he had ever come and nobody was around, or conscious, to see it. He smiled and shut the door, casting one final glance at the house occupied by Casper the Not So Friendly Resident Poltergeist.

Climbing into the driver's seat and firing up the engine he drove down the quiet small town street, in search of a cheap motel in which to administer first aid to Alex. He would call Sam later after she was safely in a bed and resting.

Sam Winchester pulled the car into an empty parking space at a sleepy motel in the middle of town. The motel sign read "Vacan" as the rest of the red neon letters had burned out. In the passenger seat the girl, who had identified herself as Heather Thornton, rubbed her bare arms in an effort to ward off the internal chill that was plaguing her. Sam slid the keys out of the ignition and turned towards her.

"You're going to be okay now," he assured her. "I promise."

"I'm not worried about me. What about Alex? What if . . .if that thing killed her?"

Sam shook his head. "Dean will take care of it. He's not going to let anything happen to Alex."

Secretly he worried about having left Dean behind. He knew the wisdom in getting Heather as far away from the house as possible, but he wondered if he should have stayed to help his brother. He knew that Dean could handle his own. Right now he had to get Heather into safety.

"Come on, let's get a room."

He climbed out of the car and went around to the passenger side. He opened the door and offered Heather his hand. She smiled at him gratefully and took it, allowing him to help her out of the car.

"So, you're friends with Alex?" she asked.

He put his arm around her slender shoulders and led her towards the front door to the reception desk of the motel. She was a very pretty young woman. Small and fragile she stood at about 5'2" and could only weigh about 110 lbs. Her brown hair was layered and fell to just past her jaw line and when she looked at him her green eyes were tainted with fear. Sam had an urge to pull her into his arms and protect her from the whole world, which he imagined was the feeling she incited in a lot of the people she knew.

"We've met a few times. Worked together on things," he said evasively.

"I know what she does, Sam. You don't have to hide it from me." There was an edge to her voice that surprised Sam. He looked at her anew, respecting the inner strength this woman carried quietly.

"Well, the answer is yes we know Alex. We do the same kind of work." He stopped as he reached the motel door and looked down at her. "We've worked together on a few cases but Alex always goes her own way when it's over. She's a lone ranger sort, but I'm sure you already knew that."

Heather nodded and went into the reception office when he opened the door for her. She shuddered from the cold originating both outside in the winter air and from within her, causing a deep chill to settle into her bones. She wandered over to the coffee machine on the other side of the lobby as Sam paid the clerk for a room. Her hands shook as she poured the coffee and she had to make an effort to steady them. When she had accomplished making the coffee the way she liked it she walked back over to Sam. The clerk was just handing him the keys to room number 5.

"Ya'll have a nice night now," he said cordially.

Sam opened the door, causing the bell overhead to jingle, and moved back into the winter night. He took Heather by the hand and led her to room number five. He unlocked the door and switched on the lights before entering.

"They only had one bed rooms," he said by way of apology.

She smiled shyly. "It's okay. I don't think I'll be doing much sleeping."

She sat on the edge of the bed and sipped at her coffee, relishing the warmth it spread through her body. Sam sat down at the small wooden table in the corner and hooked up a laptop to the electrical outlet.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to try and find out the history of your house. See if there's anything that adds up to help us fight this thing," he looked over at her and smiled. "A lot of our job is just talking to people to find out information and researching things online. The messy work is usually the shortest part of the job."

"But it's dangerous."

He stopped typing and looked over at her, sensing that she was worried about Alex. She dropped her gaze to the thin blue carpet as soon as his eyes met hers. Sam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair as far as he could without toppling over.

"Heather, everything is going to be fine. Dean can more than take care of himself and if anything happened to Alex, he'll take care of it. Alex is tough. It's going to take more than a ghost to stop her."

Heather nodded, still uncertain. She wondered why they hadn't called yet. She knew that Alex had gotten knocked around while she was still in the house, but what had happened after she had left? Sam searched for a way to distract her and figured that getting her to help him find the thing that was terrorizing her house was the best way to do it.

"Why don't you tell me exactly what happened again. From the very beginning," he said. "Dean will call as soon as he's situated. Right now the best thing for us to do is try and find out how to beat this thing."

Dean stuck the keys to the motel room in his mouth while he opened the passenger side door and unbuckled Alex. He lifted her out and back into his arms, carrying her to the door of the motel room. He set her down, holding her weight with one arm, and unlocked the door. He lifted her again and carried her into the lightless room, gently laying her down on the bed. He returned to the 66 Chevy Nova and opened the trunk. _Great minds think alike, _he thought. Alex stored all of her equipment in a hidden compartment under the top of the trunk just like he and Sam did. He opened the compartment and fished around until he found a first aid kit. _Ooh, the deluxe kind. _He smiled at the thoroughness of women and slammed the trunk shut. Dean thought for a second about calling Sam to tell him he was okay but thought better of it when he realized that Alex most likely needed immediate bandaging. He hurried back into the motel room and switched on the lights, shutting and locking the door behind him. Dean set the first aid kit down on the end table next to the bed and eased down next to Alex to assess the damage. He felt guilty combing her body with his eyes but it was for the greater good. Okay, maybe he didn't feel that guilty. She was a beautiful young woman and the wounds she had suffered did little to diminish that. He started with the nasty cut above her left eye.

It took him about an hour but he finished doctoring her up with gauze pads and surgical tape to spare. He sat back, quite pleased with himself. He had managed to bandage the deep cut on her side without removing her shirt, which should make her happy. He stood up and slid his cell phone from his jacket pocket. He punched Sam's number into the phone but stopped when Alex shifted on the bed. Dean turned and found her looking up at him. Her deep auburn red hair was a mess, but it still looked incredibly sexy. When she hadn't been beaten around by a ghost her hair was shoulder-length, straight, and layered. She stood about 5'3" and probably weighed about 120 lbs. She had deceptively delicate features that belied the fire and strength she carried internally. Her eyes, a blue the color of frozen ice over a still lake, studied him intently. He tried to ignore the bruise that darkened her right cheekbone, tried to refrain from touching it gently and being Mr. Protective.

"Dean Winchester," she began.

Alex eased herself up onto her elbows and winced at the many pains in her body. "As much as it pains me to say this, I have never in my life been so grateful to see you." She looked him in the eyes again and then down at the floor as if an admission of gratitude was embarrassing. "You saved my life."

He scowled slightly. "I've saved your life before and you've never gotten all sappy on me."

"I'm not getting sappy! And before was different," she said defensively.

"_That_ was sappy," he told her. "And how exactly is this time different than last time?"

"Because this time I couldn't have gotten out of it myself. I would have died. All of the other times you came barging in like a half-cocked superhero missing his cape before I even had a chance of getting out myself. Which I could have, mind you, seeing as though I'm still alive after all of this time working by myself." In her anger she had gotten herself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and seemed on the verge of rising from that hard won spot to punch him in the face.

"Yeah, sure. You just keep telling yourself that," he said.

He much preferred the constant bickering to the admission of his true feelings, and sappy moments with Alex came far to close to that for comfort. Alex was cynical, fiery, and stubborn to the core. She could most definitely watch her own back and then some. It shook Dean to realize how close she had come this time to dying. He didn't think he had ever seen her so vulnerable looking. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close, but again with the sappy moments. He couldn't afford to get too close to anyone other than Sam. And that couldn't be helped seeing as those Sam was his kid brother. Alex was another matter entirely. He already felt the way he did, but if he could keep those feelings from going any deeper then they would all be better off for it. The kind of work they did didn't allow for love, kisses, and happy endings. More often than not, as he had learned the hard way, it ended in tragedy.

"You are impossible. I try and give you a simple thank you and you want to start a fight."

Alex looked around the small motel room as if for the first time. "Where are Heather and Dean?"

"Dean took Heather away from the house while I was conducting my half-cocked superhero rescue of the damsel in distress." He tossed her a wink and a lazy smile and went back to dialing Sam's number.

"You are infuriating. I'd punch you but it would be a waste of energy."

"You wouldn't punch me. You'd hate to mess up this good looking face," he assured her.

She got up off the bed and walked to the nearest wall; placing her hand in support around her left bicep she slammed her entire shoulder into the wall. Dean looked at her in surprise. She hit the wall again and this time Dean heard a grating noise as her shoulder slid back into place. If it hurt, which he knew it did, Alex didn't show it.

"I think you might look better with a broken nose," she told him, picking up the remote and switching on the television. "Give you that patented look of I-just-got-my-ass- kicked-by-a-girl humility."

He shrugged and smiled at her. Alex turned away from it, trying to stamp down the emotions it incited in her. His smile was disarming, roguish, and very charming. As infuriating as he was he was a maverick. The kind of guy you were drawn to no matter how much he pissed you off. The kind of guy you were cussing at one minute and kissing the next. The kind of guy Alex most definitely did not need. Emotional attachments were a liability to her. They only landed you in trouble. Most of the time they were a weakness instead of a strength. Detachment. That was the key to staying alive in this business. Detachment and knowing your enemy well. Not getting caught up in feelings of the heart, which only made the situation confusing and difficult when the ones you loved were threatened. Alex was careful not to keep too many deep ties to people. After she had lost Allison she had realized just how dangerous loving someone could be.

Finding nothing on the television she switched it back off and lay down in the bed on her side.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" he complained.

"On the floor," she bit off; angry at the feelings she had for him.

Unfortunately, matters of the heart were very rarely left up to the person owning the heart in question. She shut her mind off to her thoughts about Dean and closed her eyes. It wasn't very long before the blessed relief of sleep found her.

The cell phone started trilling loudly on the table next to the laptop and Sam hurried to answer it before it woke Heather. Despite her claim that she would have trouble sleeping she had fallen into dreamland about an hour ago. Sam found himself slightly grateful for this as he didn't have to worry about keeping her distracted from the situation at hand and could instead concentrate on the solution.

"Hello?" he said, putting the phone to his ear.

"It's me," Dean's voice came back from the other end. "Where are you? And why are you whispering?"

"I'm trying not to wake up Heather. We're at a local motel. The Weatherfort Inn. Where are you?"

"A more mainstream motel. The Comfort Inn," Dean replied. "Have you found anything out?"

"Just the story that Heather had to tell. I've been searching on the internet for anything related and haven't come up with anything apparent yet. Not sure what we're dealing with yet. How about you?"

Dean sighed heavily on the other end. "I have this suspicion we're dealing with a poltergeist. Alex took a pretty bad beating. Found her being dragged up the stairs by an electrical cord."

"Ouch. So not just any poltergeist but a pretty angry one."

"Looks that way," Dean said. "She's sleeping now. Might take awhile to recover from it. How's Heather dealing?"

"As well as can be expected. She's worried about Alex."

"Alex is fine. Or, at least, she will be."

"That's good to hear. Where is she?"

"Sleeping. Told me to sleep on the floor," he answered.

Sam laughed. "Yup, sounds like the Alex we know and love."

"I'm not sleeping on the floor."

"Sounds like I've got the more agreeable of the two women. I don't think Heather cares where I sleep," Sam teased.

Sam knew there was tension between Alex and Dean. He thought a lot of it was emotional, possibly even sexual, but he couldn't prove that theory. All he knew was that when the two of them were together they couldn't do anything but fight. It was definitely a love/hate relationship. He had never known Dean to become overly attached to anyone other than family but Dean was different around Alex. When he thought no one was looking Sam could see it in his eyes. He cared about her. Sam knew better than to say anything about it though.

"I haven't found anything about a death in the house, either recently or prior to Heather's arrival. Could be we're dealing with something more than just your average poltergeist. I'll have to keep looking to be sure."

"You do that. It's late and I'm going to try and get some sleep."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Sam said with a chuckle.

"Shut up. I'll call you in the morning."

Dean disconnected, leaving Sam to sit and wonder.

Alex awoke to the sun creeping through the closed blinds in the motel room. She rolled over onto her back and saw Dean still sound asleep next to her. He looked so peaceful. She had to resist the urge to touch him and instead climbed slowly out of bed, in part to not wake Dean and also because her whole body felt like it had been hit by a truck. Every movement hurt to some extent or another. She checked the digital clock on the nightstand and saw that it was eight in the morning. Alex decided she was in bad need of a shower and change of clothes. The ones from last night were bloodstained and torn, hardly appropriate to be traipsing around in public. She opened the motel room door as quietly as she could and slid outside into the cool morning air. The sun did little to dispel the mild chill in the air. She went to her Nova and opened the trunk. Her duffel bag was lying inside and she picked it up, wincing at the pain lingering in the shoulder that had been dislocated only the previous night. She closed the trunk and snuck back inside. In the bathroom she unzipped the duffel bag and removed the things she would need for her shower. She worried for a moment about removing Dean's bandaging job but figured if the wounds were going to reopen they would do so whether she showered or not. Besides, the bandages probably needed to be changed anyway.

Alex stripped off the dirty clothes and carefully removed the white gauze pads and tape. She stepped into the shower, trying to ignore the multiple bruises and lacerations that pained her every step. She turned on the hot water, then the cold, manipulating the handles until she found the right temperature of water. She turned on the shower and stood there for a moment, becoming accustomed to the water hitting her wounds. It hurt badly at first, but then the pain numbed into nothingness.

As she carefully washed her hair and body she found herself thinking of Allison. Allison had been her twin sister, her heart and soul. Allison had been the fun loving, free spirited one. Her death had been like the light being snuffed out of Alex's life. Everyday that Alex lived she felt like she was missing a piece of herself that she would never get back. Her life had been strangely identical to that of Dean and Sam's with a few variations. Their father had been possessed by a demon at the time of the twin's conception, causing them to be born half-human. Their little sister Sarah had been born nine years after their mother had been told she would never be able to have children again. Their mother had always called Sarah their miracle child. When the twins were eighteen and Sarah was nine their mother had become violently ill. They found out afterward that she had been possessed by a demon and ultimately killed. After her death her father had retreated into his private world of self-torment and grief. He began studying the supernatural with a fanatical obsession and was gone often on road trips he wouldn't explain. Seeking answers Alex and Allison too studied the paranormal world. With their father's constant absences Alex had been forced to take over the role of both parents and Allison came home from college to help out. Alex joined the police force and worked to support her struggling family. Then the news came: their father had been killed. His body had been found, mutilated, on the side of the road in rural Indiana. Police chalked it up to a murder of the normal variety but Alex didn't believe it. She had set out on the road to find the truth and Allison, faithful and loving, had come with her. They had been forced to bring little Sarah along because there was nowhere else to place her. The farther the three sisters went on the journey the more the world of the paranormal became apparent to them. People were dying and nobody was stopping it because nobody believed. Everywhere they went they encountered something or another and eventually they had become quite a team. They lived off their inheritance, which was quite substantial as their father had originally been in the oil business before his self-appointed quest for vengeance and untimely death. The three sisters spent every day of their lives together, hunting evil down and destroying it where they found it, for five years. The only thing they could discover about the death of their father was that he had been looking into a cult centered in rural Indiana, a cult that neither of them could locate. It seemed that their father had been killed for knowing too much about this mysterious cult.

Then, when Sarah was fifteen, Allison too became mysteriously ill. Alex recognized all the signs and fought with every ounce of her being to save her twin's life but nothing she did worked. Allison suffered for six months, fighting to stay alive and win out against the power of the force inside her but eventually she lost the fight, just as their mother had. The doctors had called it cancer but Alex knew the truth.

Allison's death had almost made her quit hunting. She retreated to the family's log cabin for six months afterward, bringing Sarah along, and hid there from the rest of the world, the evil in it, and the guilt she felt at not being able to save the only person that mattered. Eventually she had come out of self-imposed exile with a bitter determination to kill everything evil that got in her way before she too was killed. Allison's death had left her an empty shell, consumed with the desire for revenge, and burning with hatred at the injustice of the world. She had lost everything that had ever mattered to her and she only had one thing left. She couldn't bring them back, but she could honor them by destroying that which had taken them away and now threatened the lives of other innocent people. Alex often wondered how long it would be before the evil came back to claim Sarah's life as it had done her whole family. She didn't want to be the last Delaney standing and the thought made her sick with fear. Part of her had wanted to keep Sarah by her side and not let her go off to college but she knew that she had to give Sarah the chance to live a normal life. Sarah would decide in her own time which lifestyle was meant for her.

Alex clenched her jaw, willing away the tears that threatened to spill over and meld with the hot water pouring down her face. She stood with her arms braced against the shower walls, hunched over, enduring the memories of grief and loss. The pain had made her strong but it had also made her hard, cold, and distant. She had removed herself from the ties that kept people close, kept them alive. She feared closeness, feared intimacy, feared love. The darkness had stolen everything away and now she stood alone in it, facing it without fear, knowing that when she finally died she would find the peace she sought so hard.

Alex cast the memories away like an overused blanket, shut off the water and toweled herself off. She no longer cared about reopening the wounds. The pain felt good, made her feel alive. She hadn't felt alive in a very long time. After applying new bandages she dressed in black leather pants, a white wool turtleneck sweater, and her favorite black leather jacket.

Dean was sitting at the table, fiddling with the car keys when she exited the bathroom. He looked at her carefully, obviously trying to gauge her mood before tossing the keys to her and getting to his feet.

"Feeling better today?" he asked.

"I feel fine."

He nodded. "We should go get breakfast. We can meet Sam and Heather at that diner I saw on the way."

She shrugged in response and set her duffel bag on the bed. She brushed her tangled red locks and threw her hair into a ponytail.

"You sure you're okay?" he queried. Then as an afterthought, "You know, you really should learn to trust people. And stop lying. I know you're lying. You're not okay."

"I'm fine, Dean. Quit obsessing."

"You're going to reach the point where you can't lie anymore eventually," he said matter of factly.

"Don't know. Never reached that point. You'll have to tell me about it," she responded.

She grabbed the duffel bag and started for the door. Dean stood up suddenly, blocking the way.

"What is your deal? It doesn't hurt to be honest with people."

"Sure it does. I've learned from personal experience. You can't trust people. They have a tendency to betray you in the best case scenario or die on you in the worst case."

"Look at me. Would a handsome face like this betray you?" he smiled at her, which made her insides twist.

"You are so egotistical. Get out of my way."

"Nope. Come on, be human. Show some emotion."

"I can take care of myself, Dean. I don't need your help," she snapped.

"And you called me egotistical."

"I said egotistical. I meant idiotic."

She pushed him out of the way and opened the door, storming into the late winter morning. She opened the trunk, threw the duffel bag in, slammed it shut again and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Didn't look that way last night," Dean said innocently, shutting the passenger door.

"What way?" she bit off, pulling out of the parking lot with a sharp squeal of tires.

"Like you could take care of yourself. If I recall correctly I think it was me who went charging in and saved your ass."

"What do you want? A cookie?"

"Wow. You're in an even worse mood than usual."

"Dean, shut up. Just shut up and pretend you no longer have a mouth to talk with."

"I've never been very good with pretending."

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Sam's number. Sam answered on the second ring.

"Yeah?"

"Meet us at the local diner. I'm sure Heather can give you directions. I'll talk to you when you get there," Dean said.

"Sure. See you there."

Dean disconnected and tried not to look at Alex as she drove. She seemed even more volatile this morning then she usually was. Alex was a firecracker. She could be dangerous and violent in the worst of her moods but usually refrained from lashing out at innocent bystanders, reserving her full wrath for the things that go bump in the night.

"Seriously," he started but Alex cut him off.

"Dean, your mouth is open and sound is coming from it. This is never good."

Dean was taken aback at the unusually amped level of hostility. He decided against further conversation and sat quietly until they pulled into the parking lot and Alex shut the car off. As she unbuckled he moved to reach across the short distance and take her hand but Alex pulled away and shoved the door open.

"If that hand is going where I think it is, I will twist it off and you will be known as 'Stumpy' for the rest of your life."

She climbed out of the car, slammed the door and walked quickly toward the diner. Dean was left sitting in the car in shock, wondering what the hell was wrong with her. She had unusually high defenses but this was different. Now she was just being a bitch. Dean felt compelled to run after her and punch her in the face until she regained her common sense, but decided against that course of extreme action. Maybe being around Sam and Heather would cool off her overheated jets. He decided he would speak to her about this later, when they were alone. He got out of the Nova and walked slowly toward the diner visualizing how that encounter would go. _Probably with one of us ending up with a broken nose._

"So we have nothing," Dean stated.

"That about sums it up," Sam answered with a sigh.

They had been sitting in the diner for an hour and hadn't come up with a single cause for what happened last night. According to Sam's research there hadn't been any deaths in the house or on the land it was built on.

Alex sat quietly and drank her coffee, which was getting a bit on the cold side, and kept a careful eye on Heather. Heather kept fidgeting, as though nervous, and every now and then made eye contact with Alex only to look quickly away. Alex sensed her friend wanted to say something but couldn't decide how or when. In the backburner of her brain Alex kept kicking herself for her earlier of treatment of Dean; although she would be loathe to ever admit it to him. The memories of her sister's death had hit her hard. Sarah had spilled their story when they had first met and it had been Dean that brought Alex back to her more human self, but she had never shared her emotions about her life with either of the brothers. They knew the facts, but not the depth to it. Sarah was the more emotional of the two of them and Alex like to keep things to herself if it was at all possible. After Sarah had left she had returned to the coldness inside herself and hadn't had much of a reason to feel human emotions anymore. It was hard to push them off like she had done before; it had been easier with the demonic blood running through her veins. She had been able to allow it to take over just enough to give her the detachment it took to do her job efficiently and without messy emotions. Then it had started taking over too much and threatened to swallow any goodness that was left inside her. She had decided after that it was more dangerous to keep using it then it was to try and live without it. Alex snapped out of it when Heather cleared her throat.

"I, uh, have to go to the bathroom, Sam. Could you move?" Heather kept eye contact with Alex briefly.

Alex realized Heather didn't want to say whatever was on her mind in front of the two brothers.

"Sure," Sam replied and moved to get up for her.

"Same here," Alex said, pushing Dean's shoulder to get him to move.

Dean got up and watched the two girls walk away together before sliding back into the booth.

"That was weird," he said.

Sam looked up from the laptop he had been typing away on. "What was weird?"

"Oh, come on Sam. Pay attention why don't ya? They're up to something."

Sam turned around to look in the direction of the bathroom. "Really? Huh."

Dean studied the bathroom door intently, wondering what was going on behind those closed doors.

Heather checked every stall to be certain they were alone. Alex leaned against one of the white porcelain sinks and crossed her legs and arms.

"Okay, Heather. Spill."

"I didn't get a chance to tell you the whole story on the phone. It's embarrassing and could get me into trouble at work if it leaks out."

"You mean at the school."

"Yes, that's right. I teach world history at the local high school."

Alex nodded. "I've been meaning to ask you, where is Brad?"

Brad was Heather's husband of three years. As far as Alex could remember he was a real estate agent. Heather started pacing around the bathroom like a caged animal.

"Brad went out of state. He's attending a seminar on selling property. He'll be gone for a week."

"So what's going on?"

"These weird things, they haven't just been happening at my house. It's happened at school, at the bank, the library, wherever I go," she stopped and sighed. "It's like I'm cursed."

"Nah. You're not cursed. Keep going. Maybe we'll find the truth somewhere."

"They're going to wonder what's taking us so long."

"Then let them wonder."

"Okay, well, it started about a month ago. There is this kid in one of my classes, a very troubled but talented young man. Has a family problem at home, an abusive, alcoholic father among other things. I think he developed a crush on me that got a little out of hand."

Alex raised an eyebrow as Heather plunged forward with her story. It was obvious she hadn't told anyone about this and it was a relief to finally get it off her chest.

"He started following me, sending me things like flowers, cards, candy, and the usual stuff. He cornered me after class a few times and told me how pretty I was and how he could make me so much happier if I were with him instead of Brad. I told him no, of course, that it was inappropriate not to mention illegal for that kind of thing. Finally, about a week ago, I put my foot down and told him that if he didn't stop I would report him to the police. He told me the police wouldn't believe me, that he would make up a story about how I was the one coming onto him and I would lose my job. Fortunately for me, one of the other teachers had witnessed several of these encounters and knew this wasn't true."

"Did you report him?" Alex asked.

"No. He promised to stop after the other teacher came in and interceded on my behalf. I told him if he left me alone I would drop it at that. And he did. For about a week. After Brad left I noticed that he was following me again."

"And?"

"I know this sounds crazy but during this last week every where I go something strange happens. I'm lucky nobody has gotten hurt," Heather stopped short.

She looked at Alex's split lip and the bruise on her right cheekbone, the cut above her left eyebrow on her forehead. They were healing well; already the bruise was fading into a slight purplish red color.

"God, I mean . . . .I'm so sorry," Heather stammered, tears brimming in her eyes.

"No. It's okay. You're safe and that's what I came here for," Alex told her. She hesitated and moved away from the sink. "When these things happen, is that kid around?"

"Sometimes I see him after they happen. Like at the library, all the books started falling off the shelves in the aisle I was in, and after I left I saw him sitting on a bench across the street."

"Well, this puts a new spin on things."

"What do you mean? What do you think he's doing?"

"I think there are several different possibilities, none of them good. I have a sneaking suspicion our boy has a "if I can't have you no one can" complex. Or maybe he's just pissed and is trying to scare you."

Alex walked her friend out of the bathroom with her arm protectively around her shoulders. "Either way, you can't be alone anymore."

"I have to go back to school tomorrow. I don't have time to call in a sub," Heather said.

"Okay," Alex told her as they moved towards their table. "If you have to go back then you'll do it with one little addition. We're going with you."

"Here it is. Home of Mr. Aycott."

Dean parked the car and looked at the simple, one story, white house with yellow trim. Alex had filled him in on the details of the bathroom discussion after leaving the diner. The foursome had split up, hoping to keep the kid, who had been identified as Eric Samuels, off balance. Sam was taking Heather around the town, anywhere they thought Eric wouldn't look. Meanwhile, Dean and Alex had gotten the address of the teacher that had witnessed some of the encounters and had gone to pay him a visit.

"Let's go. The sooner we figure this all out, the better."

Alex climbed out of the Impala, she had loaned her car to Sam, and pulled her leather coat around herself tighter. There was a permeating chill in the air that seemed to leech the warmth right out of one's body. Dean walked up beside her and together they climbed the steps of the patio to the front door. Dean rapped on the door and they stood back to wait.

"Man, it's cold out here. What I wouldn't give for a fireplace," Dean commented, bouncing up and down on his toes to keep warm.

Alex bit back a reply as the front door swung open and a tall, brown haired man with wire rim glasses greeted them.

"Can I help you?"

"I hope so. Are you Mr. Aycott?" Alex asked.

"Yes, yes I am. And you are?"

"We're with," Dean started to say.

"We're friends of Heather Thornton, one of your associates at the school," Alex cut in, stomping discreetly down on Dean's foot to silence him. She smiled sweetly at the middle-age teacher while Dean tried to hide his grimace of pain.

"Yes. What can I do for you?"

Alex looked around quickly, and stopped short when she spotted a kid hanging out at the city bus stop at the corner. He seemed to be listening to a portable CD player, and would have looked like any other average kid waiting for the bus to arrive; except he was staring right at her. Even at this distance she sensed the venom in his stare. This had to be Eric Samuels. And he wasn't following Heather now, he was following _them._

Mr. Aycott stared at them expectantly and shifted his feet.

"May we . . . .speak to you inside, Mr. Aycott?" Alex asked after turning around again.

Dean looked at her questioningly and Alex subtly motioned in Eric's direction. Dean slid something out of his pocket, a lighter, and dropped it "accidentally". He turned around to pick it up and looked in the direction that Alex had gestured. As he stooped to pick up the fallen lighter his gaze caught a young black haired man standing at the bus stop and glaring daggers at Alex's back. When he saw Dean looking he stopped staring at Alex and smirked. Dean felt his anger rise, also a protective instinct toward Alex, and glared back before turning around with the lighter in hand. He slid it back into his pocket just as Mr. Aycott opened the screen door for them and motioned them inside. Dean guided Alex in with his arm, putting her ahead of him, and managing to catch a glare from her in the process. Alex didn't like being coddled or protected. She was used to taking care of herself. Dean dropped his arm as soon as they were inside, even though part of him wanted to keep it there.

Mr. Aycott shut the front door and led them into a small, cozy living room with a fire blazing against the far left wall. There was a small, old fashioned television on a brown oak stand against the right wall that looked like it hadn't been used in years. Book cases filled with books on various subjects by varying authors flanked the stand and an armchair sat in the corner diagonal to one of them. Across from the television sat a couch with a floral print pattern that had seen better days. A coffee table littered with magazines, mail, and other assorted papers was in front of the couch that Alex and Dean took a seat at while Mr. Aycott sat in the armchair.

"I apologize for the mess, I wasn't expecting company. Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

"No. We're fine. We just came to ask you some questions about Heather Thornton and the incidences she had with one of her students, Eric Samuels."

"Ah. I see," Mr. Aycott said, pushing his glasses up. "Well, what would you like to know?"

"Could you tell us anything about Eric himself?" Dean asked.

"Eric Samuels is trouble. That's what I can tell you. I have him in my third period Algebra class, which is across the hall from Mrs. Thornton's own room. Eric comes from what is looked upon as the "bad part" of town. He lives with his mother, younger sister, and his father. His father is an alcoholic who abuses both his children and his wife. Eric himself has been in trouble countless times. Just last month he was arrested for beating another student within an inch of his life. Several of the female students have filed sexual harassment charges against him. He's a bully, a liar, a thief, and he's dangerous."

"Why is he still in the public school system? With so many charges you would think he'd be in jail or at least forced out of the school," Dean commented.

"Yes, one would think. He's on parole for the assault on the student; he's still a juvenile to the courts. And the sexual harassment charges, there wasn't enough evidence to prove them. They were dropped from the courts."

"Why is he still with his father? Why hasn't anyone, even the mother, taken them away?" Alex wondered.

"The state has looked into the Samuel's family several times. Why nothing has been done is beyond me. I believe his father works at the local auto shop on 5th street. He holds down a job and is careful not to leave marks when he hits the children. About his wife I cannot say. Again, I would suppose, it's a case of not enough evidence."

Mr. Aycott sighed heavily, as if the subject pained him, and took his glasses off to clean them against his brown sweater.

"What happened between Eric and Mrs. Thornton?" Alex asked gently.

"Eric developed a severe crush on her, I believe. She's a very pretty and talented young woman. He wanted an inappropriate relationship with her. I was passing by her classroom one day when I heard them talking in her classroom. I peeked into the room and saw Eric. He had her cornered behind her desk and was very irate. She kept telling him that she was married and he needed to stop." Mr. Aycott stood up and began pacing the living room, obviously agitated by the memory. "After he left I questioned her about the incident. She told me what had been happening, that Eric had been stalking her and attempting to seduce her. She begged me not to tell anyone, that he was just lonely and confused and needed help."

He stopped and turned to look at them. "I complied with her wishes. About a week later I heard them arguing again and returned to her room, afraid Eric would harm her. I heard him tell her that she couldn't go to the police because he would tell them that it was she who had seduced him. I interrupted at this point and told Eric that I would tell the police the truth, if need be. Mrs. Thornton told him to leave and she would refrain from pressing charges if he just left her alone."

"Has anything happened after that?" Alex asked.

"No. Not that I know of. Eric remained in her class and I never heard another word about it."

"All right. Thank you for your time Mr. Aycott. It's been very insightful," Alex told him, standing up and pulling Dean with her.

"May I ask just what it is you're trying to do?" Mr. Aycott asked.

"We believe Eric is still looking for payback. We're trying to stop him," Alex said.

She walked to the front door and opened it, thanking the teacher again before stepping outside with Dean. A quick scan of the street showed no sign of Eric. Dean led the way to the car parked at the curb and stopped short on the driver's side.

"You feel that?" he asked, looking around.

The air felt charged again, like it had the previous night in the house. A sudden force slammed Dean's body against the car and he dropped out of her sight on the other side.

"Dean!" she cried.

She rushed around the side of the Impala and found Dean rubbing his head and trying to stand. She hurried over and knelt down next to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

She stood and grabbed his arm, hauling him to his feet. Both of them looked around for Eric, but could see no one. Something tore Dean loose from her grip on his arm and tossed him like a rag doll into the middle of the street. Alex watched as he stood back up and tried to move out of the road, but it seemed like something had weighed his feet down. He couldn't move. Alex registered the sound of a rapidly approaching car with horror. She saw the front of a Ford F-150 come tearing around the bend in the road, way over the speed limit. She had a moment to look through the windshield at the driver and realized he was terrified. _Eric must be controlling the truck, _she realized. _It's not going to stop. _She broke into a run, booted feet pounding against the asphalt. Dean struggled against the invisible hand holding him in place just as Alex launched herself into the air and tackled him to the other side of the road. The truck roared past as they went tumbling, barely missing Dean. The driver slammed on the brakes and the truck skidded to a halt. The driver got out and started toward them in a panic.

"Are you kids okay?" he yelled.

Alex looked down at Dean from her vantage point of being on top of him. She felt her face heat up and was uncomfortably aware of the nearness of their proximity. Dean looked back up at her with a mixture of anger and anxiety stamped across his chiseled features. He was breathing hard beneath her and she could feel his heart trip-hammering against his ribs. She got to her feet and reached down to help him up.

"You kids okay?" the man repeated, reaching their side.

"I think so," Alex said, the rush of adrenaline beginning to wear off. She felt a stinging pain in her left side, where the cut from the previous night was. She discreetly reached her hand under the white wool sweater and felt the injury. When she pulled her hand back it was stained with fresh blood.

"Yeah, we're fine. What the hell happened?" Dean demanded.

"I . . .I don't know. I was driving the speed limit when all of the sudden my truck sped up, like someone was pushing down on the gas. It was all I could do to control it. I tried to stop! I really did," he stopped suddenly as if realizing the words coming out of his mouth sounded completely crazy. "I'm just glad you kids weren't hurt."

"We're okay. We've got to get going," Alex told him.

The man nodded and walked back to his truck. Dean stared after him and then turned to Alex. She turned her bloodied hand away from him but wasn't quick enough. His eyes narrowed at the gesture and he reached out, grabbing her hand. He turned it over and his eyes widened at the blood.

"Where did this come from?" he demanded.

"Nowhere," she answered, jerking her hand back.

He looked at the stain of red blossoming from the cut under her sweater. Before she could stop him he reached out and jerked the edge of the sweater up, revealing the gash across her ribs. It had reopened and was now bleeding profusely again. He let go of the sweater, took her arm, and led her back to the Impala. He opened the trunk and rummaged around in it, coming back out with a first aid kit. He slammed the trunk shut and approached her, laying the white box down on the back of the car.

"We've got to stop the bleeding," he told her.

He reached down and grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her easily onto the back of the car. A flash of anger consumed her but she pushed it away, not wanting a repeat of that morning. Instead she just glared at him. He ignored her and went to work, pulling the side of her shirt up and asking her to hold it for him. He worked quickly, applying pressure to the wound, then a gauze pad, and finally taping it down and into place. She dropped her shirt and slipped off the back of the car.

"Thank you, Dr. Dean," she said with only a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"I guess we're even," he told her.

He walked around to the driver's side and yanked the door open, tossing the first aid kit into the back seat.

"Even?" she asked.

"I saved your life, you saved mine."

"Well, I wasn't going to let you get spammed by a truck," she told him. "If you die it's going to be because you annoy me to death and I finally kill you myself."

"Ha-ha. Funny," he replied.

They climbed into the car together and Dean started it up cautiously. They made it out of the neighborhood and back onto the main road without further incident. He stopped at a red light and looked around wondering where to go next. He had no idea where Sam was with Heather and he couldn't go to them. It was obvious Eric was following them now, and if he went to Sam he would be leading the little punk right to Heather. Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, searching the cars and street behind them but could see no sign of Eric.

"Looks like Eric is out for blood now," Alex ventured.

"He wants us out of the way," Dean responded. "I don't think he's trying to kill Heather, or he would have already done it by now."

"Then what does he want?"

"Could be he's trying to scare her enough to give in to what he wants."

Alex nodded. That made sense. If Heather thought that her life and other's were in mortal danger she might give in to Eric's demands.

"So we're dealing with a telekinetic psychopath," Alex said.

"I think so," Dean replied. "And he's strong. It takes a lot to do what he just did. He must have been practicing for awhile."

"How do we stop him?" Alex wondered.

"Don't know yet. Still working on that," he said, casting a glance in her direction and flashing a grin.

"Whatever we do, we better do it fast. He's going to kill someone if we don't."

Sam's cell phone trilled loudly in his pocket causing people to turn around and cast angry comments in his direction. He took Heather by the hand and hurried her out of the movie theater.

"Where are you?" Sam asked.

"Driving down some random street," Dean replied. "Psycho boy just tried to kill me. Lucky for me Alex was there."

"What? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Eric is a telekinetic with a side of homicidal maniac. We can't meet up right now. We think he's following us. We don't want to lead him to Heather."

"Good idea. We can't keep running around and avoiding him though. What do we do now?"

"We're still working on that part." Dean answered. "As much as I'd love to right now, we can't kill him. He's just a kid."

"A dangerous kid," Sam said.

"Just keep Heather away from anywhere he'd look for her and keep an eye out for him. If we're right then he's still following us."

"What are you guys going to do?" Sam asked.

"Try and confront him. I'm pretty sure if we stand still long enough he'll come out and try again. That's all we've got right now."

"All right. Be careful and keep me posted."

"Sure thing."

Sam disconnected and wondered what to do next.

All through lunch at the same diner from earlier that morning, Dean wondered what to do next. It was getting late in the afternoon and they still hadn't come up with a definitive plan.

"About this morning . . . .," Alex started.

"Don't worry about it. We've got bigger problems."

"I just wanted to say I was sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like that."

Dean sighed. "It's fine. Apology noted and accepted. Besides, when don't we fight?"

Alex smiled faintly and took another bite of her french fries. Dean couldn't stop thinking about how she had blushed at the realization that she was on top of him earlier. Was it possible his feelings were mutual? Were they both denying themselves? Dean had been in love once before. Enough to spill the family secret after a couple of dates. She had thought he was just trying to break up with her by telling her a crazy story about ghosts and bogeymen. Even after she had called upon him later for help, and seen what he did for her own eyes, she still didn't want a relationship. The problem was they were too different. But he and Alex . . . .they were the same. They both lived life on the road, both hunted, and they understood each other. He knew her story from Sarah but he had never asked her directly about it. He wanted to know but was afraid of dredging up painful memories for her. Now he wondered if their constant fighting was in effort to mask deeper emotions that they both felt. Dean searched inside himself, wondering if he was indeed in love with Alex. He wondered if she ever did the same.

"What are you thinking about?" Alex asked.

Dean came back to the real world and found her leaning into the table toward him and looking at him curiously. She really was beautiful. And, for the most part, she could take care of herself. He wouldn't have to worry about her being a liability and needing to protect her. Even though he felt protective anyway, but that was beside the point.

"Dean!"

"What?" he asked, once again pulling himself into the present moment.

"You're awfully spacey. What's on your mind?"

"What happened?" he blurted out. "I mean I know the story but you've never told me yourself."

Alex sat back suddenly, as if she had been pushed back against the booth. She looked stricken and pale. She dropped her gaze to study the table intently as though searching for the meaning of life on the many scratches and stains on the wooden surface. She swallowed hard and nodded, mostly to herself it seemed, before looking back up at Dean.

"I had more family than I do now once," she started. She stopped and steeled herself against the painful flood of memories. She fiddled with the napkin on the table before Dean impulsively reached out and grabbed her hand. She flushed with . . .what? Embarrassment? Dean noted that she didn't pull her hand away. He held it gently and urged her to continue with his eyes.

"I had a mother, a father, and a twin sister," she continued. "Her name was Allison."

Over the course of the next hour Alex told him her story. He listened in shock as she recounted her mother's death, then her fathers, and finally her twin's. He understood personally why she didn't like to talk about it and her pain matched his own. He didn't like to talk about his mother either, but he hadn't lost as much as she had. At least he still had Sam, and his father was alive somewhere but wasn't in his life.

He already knew the story but he had never heard it from her mouth, in her own words, complete with her own emotions. She had always kept what happened quiet and under wraps, as if it was a huge secret that should never be told. He felt sorry for having caused her pain, but he also knew that it was something she had needed to talk about whether she realized it or not.

"I'm . . .I'm sorry," he said finally.

He couldn't think of anything else to say. He flagged the waitress, paid the bill, and led Alex from the diner. She was silent throughout, lost in her own personal world of demons and pain. When they reached the car Dean found himself drawing her into his arms and holding her there. He was surprised when she didn't pull away and instead put her arms around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder. He held her tight and leaned against the car. He was afraid to speak, afraid to move. He feared that if he did he would wake up from this dream and she would be gone. They stood together for a long time, what seemed like hours to Dean, before she finally pulled away.

"Dean," she started. Her voice was thick with unshed tears and emotion.

Dean noted distantly that the sun was setting. In the back of his mind he realized they needed to get to work, that night would be their best cover for pinning down Eric. He also realized he didn't care. He didn't want to lose this moment. He never let himself get attached, never let himself feel for anyone other than Sam and his own father. Now, against his better judgment, he felt more for this girl than he had for anyone in a very long time. Alex stepped back from him, then just as suddenly surged forward and pulled him close. She wrapped one arm around his waist and the other cupped the back of his neck. She pulled his face down until their noses were touching and then enveloped his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. He returned the kiss with fervor, pulling her tightly into his embrace, and letting the world pass him by without noticing it. The kiss slowed, lost its fire and urgency, until they both stopped. She looked at him in shock and pulled away, although he could tell it was with reluctance.

"Well," she began. She stopped, unsure of what to say or do next. Had they been in a more private location he was pretty sure of what would have happened next.

"We've got work to do," he finished for her.

She nodded and turned to the passenger side door. He caught her arm and pulled her back for another shorter, sweeter, kiss. He let her go then without comment, walked around the side of the Impala, and climbed into the driver's seat as she took the passenger side. There was nothing to be said. They both knew how they felt and the realization that their relationship had just changed forever was enough to sustain the silence. Dean left the parking lot of the diner and merged into traffic.

"We're going to the park," he told her.

"What are we going to do there? You really think he's still following us?"

"I'm pretty sure he is. I think the best thing to do is lure him in with bait."

"You want to use Heather?" Alex asked.

"Nope. I want to use you," he replied.

Alex looked at him in surprise, obviously waiting for an explanation. Dean told her his plan as he pulled into the park. There was nobody around at this hour, the park was closed. The sun had gone down and night had dug in its heels. He parked the Impala and they got out. The plan was simple. And for the two of them, who had spent the better majority of their working relationship fighting, the first part was easy. Alex made a point of slamming her door and stormed off a few steps before turning around suddenly.

"You are an egotistical asshole!" she yelled. Her face was livid with rage.

"Me? I'm an asshole? How about you?" he retorted, starting toward her. "You're a self-centered bitch. You think the whole world revolves around you? News flash: it doesn't."

Alex backed away from his angry advance. "I never should have saved your sorry ass from that truck. My life would be a much better place without you in it. So just STAY OUT!" she screamed.

"Fine. Next time you need someone to save your ass, count me out. You're on your own Alex."

"Works for me."

Alex stormed off, making a show of being angry and hurt. Dean had to a hide the smile that formed on his mouth. He turned around and pounded his fists against the top of the car. He hoped Eric was watching. He began kicking the right front tire and cussing to himself about Alex, just in case he was around. Dean worried secretly about Alex. He wondered if he had put her in unnecessary danger. He had just really found her; he couldn't bear to lose her like Sam had lost Jessica. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow moving from tree to tree. Eric. Eric moved away from Dean and began following Alex, who was now out of Dean's line of sight. Dean waited until Eric, too, had disappeared from immediate view and followed after him.

Alex thought the mock-fight had gone rather well. She was confused inside, wondering what the hell had happened between her and Dean at the diner. She walked quickly and began to realize just how big the park was. She had entered the main park area and found herself amid swings, jungle gyms, seesaws, and sandboxes. The park had a ghostly quality to it at this hour, where no children's laughter could be heard. The swings swayed with the wind, creaking in protest at being used after hours. The night was still, and dark, as there was no moon to light her way.

She thought again of the kiss, the passion in it, the fire and need. She was freezing inside and had been for a long time. Had Dean been freezing too? She was so cold since Allison's death. She wondered again what this meant. Inside his embrace she had felt warm; fire had enveloped her and she wanted to keep it and hold onto it forever. She didn't want to be here, she wanted to be in some cheap motel room with Dean. She scoffed at the notion. More likely what had happened is they had both gone completely nuts and would soon recover from the temporary psychosis and pretend it never happened. They would go back to the way they had always been, loving and hating, bickering and making up all at the same time. Alex stopped beside one of the lonely swings and touched the chain it swayed from. The chain was cold, like ice, and she sympathized with it. She was cold too. _Do I love Dean? _She asked herself. She couldn't be sure. She had gone so long without love she wasn't sure she knew it anymore. She was interrupted from her introspective thoughts by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. She whirled around and started to let out a startled scream when Eric's hand closed around her throat. He forced her backwards until her back was up against the cold metal of the jungle gym. He squeezed her throat, cutting off her oxygen, and Alex flashed back to the electrical cord he had tried to kill her with in the house.

"You're in my way, sweetheart," he growled. "Not anymore."

She struggled to break his grip but her attempts to pull his hand even a centimeter away were useless. She had known he was probably going to attack her. That had been part of the plan. She and Dean had both known this encounter could get ugly. It was a risk they had to take, seeing as though they had no other available options. Now it seemed reasoning with this kid was not going to be an option.

"You're going to die now," Eric said. "No boyfriend to save you this time."

"Don't be too sure of that," Dean told him. "And, oh yeah, let her go."

Eric spun around, dragging Alex with him. Dean stood ten feet away, an angry glare on his face and a gun in his hand. He raised the weapon and pointed it in Eric's direction.

"Whatcha gonna do, hero, shoot me? You can't. It would be murder."

"I said. Let. Her. Go."

"Or what? You shoot me? I don't think so. You can't fight me! I'm everywhere! I'm _stronger _than you," Eric snarled.

Alex drew on the last of her strength to pull back her elbow and smash Eric in the face. He released his hold on her and doubled over, clutching his nose where her elbow had broken it.

"OW! Oh, you bitch! I'm gonna fuckin kill you!" he screamed.

Dean moved the few steps to close the distance between him and Alex, catching her with his arm before she fell. She grabbed onto him, using him for support as she sucked in oxygen and attempted not to faint. He held the gun steady on Eric who was still mewling like an angry cat and threatening to kill Alex.

"That's it, Eric. No more games. You leave Heather Thornton alone and I let you live," Dean said coldly.

Eric straightened up and glared at him before shifting his gaze to Alex. Dean held her tightly with one arm against his side and thought about putting a bullet between the kid's eyes just for looking at her the way he was.

"I could kill you both now," Eric stated. "Your bullet ain't faster than me."

Dean lowered the weapon slightly, seeing an opening in the kid's defenses. "You could," he conceded. "But then you'd be a murderer."

"So what? You're ready to put a cap in my ass."

"Not unless I have to. Eric, you don't have to be like this," he started.

"Are you about to give me the Eric you can turn your life around speech? I've heard it a thousand times. About how I could do so much better, have a real life, go to college because God! I have so much potential but I just don't use it." Eric wiped the blood from his nose with an angry swipe. "I'm a freak! That's what I am! Nobody will ever accept me, or love me, because I'm a damn freak!"

Dean was taken aback by his sudden outburst. "Eric, you can't make Heather Thornton love you. Love just . . . .happens." Dean looked down at Alex for a moment, who had her face buried in his shoulder, and then back up to Eric.

Eric stopped and studied him closely. Dean lowered the gun completely and stood facing the kid, ready to take a chance with their lives on his humanity.

"You're a freak too," he said finally. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm a freak."

Eric nodded in Alex's direction. "Does she love you?"

Dean shrugged and pocketed the gun. "I don't know."

"How about you? You love her?" Eric demanded.

Dean hesitated. "If I had to venture a guess and try and figure out my heart right now, then I'd have to say . . . .yes. I do," he finally replied.

"You're lucky, then," Eric told him. "I'm not as lucky as you. I'm not like you."

Dean saw the shift in his eyes, the darkness beginning to take hold of him again. He retreated back the few steps he had come into the light and glared at Dean. There was murder in that glare. Dean withdrew the gun from his pocket.

"I'll leave Heather alone," Eric allowed. "You guys messed that shit up for me bad anyway. Too many people know, now."

Dean watched him carefully. Eric kept shifting his gaze between him and Alex, as if unsure of his next move. Alex, who was now breathing normally, pulled her face away from Dean's jacket and looked at Eric.

"I'll leave the teach alone," he repeated. "Cuz could be I found something better."

His gaze settled on Alex then, and the air began to charge. Dean raised the gun but not before a force neither of them could see knocked them off their feet and sent them tumbling to the ground. As if an invisible hand had grabbed her foot Alex went sliding across the grass, dragged by Eric's will, towards him. At the same time Dean was lifted into the air and thrown forcefully into the swing set. He landed in a heap and realized he had dropped the gun along the way. He tried to move but found himself pinned to the ground, as if a huge slab of concrete had been dropped on top of him. He realized with horror that he was helpless to save Alex.

Eric reached down and grabbed Alex by the front of her sweater, hauling her roughly to her feet. She backhanded him as hard as she could, causing his head to snap to the side, and followed up by grabbing his head and slamming it into her knee. The charge in the air was faltering, and Alex realized Eric was using too much power. He was weakening, mentally. He stood up again and Alex felt herself fall to her knees, forced down by his power. He stalked over, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. She cried out in pain before she could stop herself. Eric leaned down and put his mouth right next to her ear.

"Time for you to die, bitch," he hissed. "You ready to take your friend's place?"

He released his hold on her hair and punched her in the side of the face, hard enough to knock her over. Alex realized that he had drained the majority of his resources and was no longer strong enough to hold both her and Dean at the same time. Eric must have realized the same thing because he slammed his foot into her ribs as hard as he could. He leaned down, sticking his finger in her face.

"I'll get you. I'll be back, and you'll be dead."

Eric turned on his heel and ran off into the night. Dean sat up; the hold on him released, and ran to Alex. He helped her up and they walked slowly back to the car together, leaning on each other for support.

"We almost had him," Dean said after awhile. "I almost reached the humanity in him."

"At least Heather is safe."

Dean opened the passenger side door and helped her in. "Yeah, but now he wants you. And I can't allow that."

"He wants to do what?" Sam demanded.

"He wants to kill Alex in Heather's place," Dean repeated. "He said he'd leave Heather alone because he couldn't get away with it anymore, but he's furious at Alex."

"Well, that's good news and bad," Sam allowed.

Sam cast a glance in the direction of the two girls. Alex was holding Heather in her arms, as a mother would a frightened child, and was gently stroking her hair and calming her. Heather was upset over the encounter in the park and feared for her friend's life. Sam had never seen Alex be tender to another person. It was almost like looking at a completely different woman.

"Sam!" Dean shook his brother.

Sam realized Dean had been trying to get his attention. "What?"

"What are we going to do now?" Dean repeated.

"I don't know," Sam sighed. "He's a kid. He's a messed up kid, dangerous, but he's still just a kid."

"That's not good enough," Dean snapped.

Sam stared hard at him. "Wait a minute. What's going on?"

Dean looked at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck realizing he had just revealed himself to his brother.

"Dean, talk to me," Sam said. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the Impala. Dean noticed the girls had gone inside Heather's house. The two brothers were alone on the street.

"We, uh, we kissed," Dean told him.

"What?" Sam started laughing quietly.

"Hey! It's not funny," Dean said.

"I never said it was," Sam told him. "I just think it's about damn time you two came clean with each other. You were driving me nuts."

Dean shrugged. "I don't know what I feel right now. At the moment, we just need to figure out how to stop this kid."

Sam nodded and looked in the direction of the house as worry creased his forehead. "I agree."

"You can't take the fall for me," Heather protested through tears.

"I can, I will, and I have," Alex said firmly. She put her hands on her friend's shoulders in a pathetic attempt to console her. "And you're getting out of town for a few days."

"I can't leave you here to deal with this alone," Heather said.

"Leaving me here is the best thing you can do right now. No offense, but worrying about you just makes it worse for me. And I'm not alone, I have the brothers."

Heather nodded once and stared off into space, as if contemplating her choices. She turned back to Alex after a few minutes and blinked back the crystal tears running from her eyes.

"Where will you stay?" she asked in a small voice.

Alex smiled a little at her friend's prioritizing. As if a place to stay was their biggest problem. "Here if it makes you feel better. But you're leaving, as I've already said."

Alex motioned upstairs and began guiding Heather by the shoulders. "Now go, start packing. No arguments because I won't have them."

Alex stopped halfway up the beige carpeted stairs as her cell phone began trilling loudly in her pocket. She yanked it out and checked the caller ID.

"Hello?" she answered.

"I need help," Sarah's voice came back from the other end.

Alex leaned up against the wall of the stairway and sighed. "What's wrong?"

"I have a slight violent poltergeist problem over here," she said.

"And you can't handle it yourself?" Alex asked.

"Not this one. It's bad. So far eight people have gone to the hospital, and I almost made it nine."

Alex brew out a breath and felt her jaw tighten at the thought of her baby sister getting hurt. Her mind whirled with possibilities and she wondered how she was going to pull off being in two places at once. She had to stay here and finish this thing with Eric to keep Heather safe, but she had to get to her sister to keep her safe.

"Alex?" Sarah asked.

"Call me back in ten," she replied, already on her way down the stairs.

"Okay. Bye."

Alex slid her phone back into her pocket and yanked the door open. "Sam!" she hollered.

Sam jogged up the walkway to her while Dean pretended to not be watching from his position leaning against the Impala.

"I need you to go to California right away," she told the younger Winchester brother.

Sam's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Sarah called. She's in trouble and needs help. I would go but I have to see this through for Heather's sake."

Sam nodded and looked back toward his brother. Alex followed his gaze and watched as Dean half-saluted them in a cocky, lazy way. She felt the beginning of a smile tug at her lips and quickly resumed a straight face as Sam turned back to her.

"Tell me how and what I'm dealing with," he said.

"How you're getting there is this," she replied, tossing him the keys to her Nova. She yanked two hundred dollars from her wallet and handed it to him. "What you're dealing with is a very pissy poltergeist that has already hospitalized people. I'm sure Sarah will have more details for you when you get there."

Sam nodded and tried not to question where the two hundred dollars had come from. Alex realized he had no idea how large the sister's inheritance was. He probably thought she ran credit card fraud scams and other such things. She decided against telling him the truth and watched him walk away. He stopped and spoke to Dean for a few minutes as Alex leaned against the porch railing and wondered if she was doing the right thing. Dean patted his brother's shoulder and Sam pulled some clothing from the Impala before tossing them into the Nova and starting it up. Dean came to stand beside Alex and together they watched Sam drive off.

"He'll be all right," Dean said absently. "They both will."

Alex watched Sam disappear around the corner. "I hope so."

_Two Days Later . . . ._

"Sam!"

Sarah enfolded him in a huge hug as he stood in the doorway of her dorm room. Sam felt the heat from her body as she was pushed so close to him and wrapped his arms around her small frame to return the hug. He was overcome by a feeling of tenderness toward her and was shocked to realize that it was one of the same emotions he had felt in Jess's presence.

Sarah pulled away and Sam realized that the look in her eyes was different from when he had seen her last. As if she was seeing him in a different light and Sam was a little surprised to realize that he was doing the same. She had her hair up in a messy bun that left strands coming out in a kind of "I've been doing too much work" way and was dressed in one of those baby blue jogging suits that looked like they were made of velvet. The pants rode low on her hips and exposed part of her abdomen and she had on a white tank top that said "Your village called . . . .their idiot is missing" across the front under the jacket that matched the pants. She wore blue and white sneakers on her feet and by the sparkle in her eyes she was either really happy to see him or she was just plain happy with her life right now.

"You're looking good," he said carefully.

"Thanks!" she replied, ushering him into her room. "You too."

He sat on the edge of her bed while she straddled the chair that faced her computer. Sam noticed she had a board on the far right hand side of her wall that was covered in newspaper clippings and web printouts of strange things that had happened recently in her area. A few of them were newspaper reports that read "Case solved . . . ." on some matter or another. He raised an eyebrow at her as he looked at the board.

"In college and still chasing after things that go bump in the night?" he asked.

Sarah shrugged. "I couldn't sleep at night if I didn't. It's hard because I'm not as good as Alex is, but after knowing what's out there and then reading about it in the papers I can't just sit around and work on my homework."

Sam leaned forward with his arms on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. "I would love to go back to college and just be normal. Forget about all of this and live an actual life like a person."

Sarah hesitated and stared at the fibers in her dark blue carpet. "What's normal? Normal for me is this. It wouldn't be normal for me to know that someone is in trouble and just ignore it. We grew up with this life Sam, and that's normal for us whether we like it or not. And we're people too. We're just people who rise above it and do something to save people who can't save themselves," she stopped and stared into his eyes. Her voice softened. "You save people every job that you do, Sam. That makes you more than a person. It makes you a hero."

Sam swallowed hard and thought about her words. He had never thought about it that way. He had always seen his life as a burden, something that held him back from ever finding true happiness. It was his lifestyle that had taken Jess from him and he had never wanted to spend the rest of his life fighting for the side of good. He had never stopped to think about the good he had done and how much more he could do if he continued. He looked at Sarah again and saw the sparkle in her ice blue eyes that reminded him of how a sapphire looked when held up to a bright light. It was apparent that despite her nightly adventures she had found happiness within herself and Sam admired her for that.

"So what is going on with this poltergeist?" he asked.

"Well, I got all the ingredients together that I need to get rid of it. It's just getting past it that is the hard part. It kind of gets pissy when it realizes you're trying to evict it."

Sam smiled. "I would imagine. We should do it in the daytime, when it is weaker."

Sarah nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. I was just worried about trying it for a second time by myself."

Sam nodded and stood up. For some reason being around Sarah now was different than before. He was having feelings he was surprised to be having and he was definitely attracted to her on the physical level. There was something in her eyes as he moved to her door that told him that she was having the same emotions. Part of him felt like he was betraying Jess in a way he couldn't understand and the other part of him wanted to run to Sarah and pull him into her arms and never let go. He felt safe with her at the same time he wanted to protect her. He loved how she was full of wisdom for her short years in this life and how she did everything that was handed to her with a smile on her face and no complaint to be heard. He loved how she gave her heart to strangers and risked everything to save them because she believed it was the right thing to do. He had never stopped to think about any of this before. He had never stopped to let himself realize that when she had come into his life she had walked back out with a piece of his heart he had denied himself from even realizing was gone.

"I'll come back in the morning," he told her, swallowing back the emotion in his voice.

He put his hand on the doorknob and it somehow felt colder than it should have. He opened it and stopped and when he felt a small hand on his shoulder.

"No," she said quietly.

Sam turned and stared down into her eyes. There was longing in hers and this time Sam didn't stop himself from feeling. He felt like time had slowed and he would wake up any minute with Dean telling him to get his ass out of bed because they had another job to do. He expected an alarm to go off, a door to slam, a shower to start, anything that would tell him he was sleeping. The voices in the hallway outside died down to the equivalent of an ocean wave and the fan beating the air overhead was the only sound left to be heard in the silence of the room. He thought he could hear their hearts beat and when he imagined that they were beating as one.

She took his hand gently and Sam grabbed hold of her other one as they stood there on the brink of something new. She stared into his eyes and was overcome with feeling, with passion and tenderness for this man who gave his life for others. Who searched for a better life and never realized he had it. Without realizing it they were moving toward the bed, hand in hand, and when she fell onto the silk sheets she felt as though she had fallen into heaven. She watched his face as it came down, his eyes never leaving hers until the very last moment when they closed and his lips brushed hers as light as a feather.

She reached her hand up and ran it through his hair, her free hand finding the small of his back. Their mouths met and melded together as one and the kiss deepened as it began to feel more right than anything they had previously experienced. She pulled him closer as he lay on top of her until there was no more than a centimeter between their bodies. The heat from his body made her skin burn and she bathed in the fire as though it were a hot tub. She pulled her mouth away and stared into his eyes.

"Stay with me," she said.

"Yes, that's right," Alex said into the receiver. "Two sausage and a liter of Pepsi."

Dean watched Alex nod into the phone from where he sat straddling a chair at the kitchen table. He had papers on Eric and his family spread out before him but the words were blurring together when he tried to look at them. All he could think about was what he had told Eric in the park. That he loved Alex and all he could think about was whether or not it was true. He thought back on the kiss, on the moment of vulnerability and intensity, and wondered if he had inadvertently spoken the truth.

Alex placed the phone back on the receiver and retrieved her coffee mug. "Forty minutes, or less."

Dean nodded and pretended to not be noticing that she was wearing a tight black tank top and hip hugging jeans. She was barefoot at the moment and her hair was down in an un-brushed manner, leaving it tangled in a sexy way. She padded across the kitchen and hopped up to sit on the counter, clutching her mug in her hands and drinking the Amaretto flavored coffee slowly.

"Find anything useful?" she queried.

"Not really, just that his parents live about five miles away," he answered without looking up.

"How are we going to deal with this?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.

Dean's hand tightened on the pen he was holding. "Kill him."

Alex raised an eyebrow and set her coffee mug down. "We can't kill him, Dean. He's not a demon or a spirit, he's a human being."

"You have a better argument than that up your sleeve?" he asked absently.

"Dean!" she half-shouted. "We can't kill a kid. He needs help, not a bullet in his brain."

"I'm not seeing any alternative here and this isn't a discussion. Besides, being human has made you go soft."

"What!" she demanded, hopping off the counter. "What the hell do you mean?"

Alex realized that she was unconsciously clutching the amulet around her neck and quickly dropped her hand. She had often wondered if ridding herself of the demon blood had been the right move, if it had in fact been more helpful than harmful. And now Dean had the nerve to sit here and tell her that she was going soft because she didn't want to kill a child. _What's gotten into him? _She wondered. She flashed back suddenly to the scene at the park and Dean's words slammed into her brain with all the speed of a freight train._ "If I had to venture a guess and try and figure out my heart right now, then I'd have to say . . . .yes. I do." _Alex wondered if he had meant it, if it had been a ploy to throw Eric off or if he had been speaking the truth. She stopped and examined her own heart, wondering if she felt the same.

"I mean that the old Alex wouldn't have had a problem with putting this kid out of his misery," Dean snapped, standing up from his position at the table.

"The _old _Alex? What, am I new and improved now?" she demanded.

"New, but not improved," he shot back.

Without realizing it they had moved within feet of each other, both furious and ready to throw a punch at the first opportunity.

"What about you Dean? Going all soft back there at the park! That sure as hell wasn't in the script," she shouted.

"What are you talking about?" he asked warily.

"You said you loved me!" she cried.

Dean faltered and looked stunned for a few seconds, as if shocked that she had even brought that up. He had thought that was forgotten, that they would both avoid the issue because neither one of them were caught up in emotion the way Sam and Sarah were. He wondered what the hell he was going to say now because he wasn't even sure he trusted himself to speak. On the one hand he knew it was true, deep down inside himself he couldn't deny that he had come to love her. But on the other hand he wanted to forget about it because loving someone was dangerous. Especially in his family. And they would part again and go there separate ways and then where would this love have gotten him? He thought back to Cassie and how she had spurned him. He thought back to his nights of mindless sex just because the girl was hot and wondered if he could even ever settle down the way Sam wanted to do.

"Do you?" she asked in a dangerously quiet tone.

"I, uh, well . . .," he started while she stared him down.

_Ding dong! _Alex jumped at the sound of the doorbell as it shattered the relative silence of their standoff and cursed under her breath. She couldn't help but notice Dean's look of absolute relief as she stalked toward the door. She heard the chair scrape as he sat back down and she yanked the door open, startling the pizza guy. She took the pizzas from him and handed him his money before shutting the door and tossing the boxes on the table. They eyed each other warily for about five minutes before settling down to eat in silence, each one lost in thought and both avoiding even a hint of conversation.

Alex washed off her plate in the sink and set it in the rack to dry. She leaned against the counter and braced herself on it, thoughts swirling in her brain both about her feelings for Dean and her feelings about him wanting to kill Eric. She knew it wasn't right, that neither one of them could live with taking a human life. It wasn't easy the first time and it wasn't easy any time after that. She had been forced to do it a few times and their deaths still haunted her dreams. But Dean seemed to really want to kill Eric and she couldn't help but wonder why.

Dean watched Alex's back as she stood against the sink and floundered inside himself for the answer to her question. He didn't know what to tell her; he was afraid to tell her the truth because he himself wasn't even sure what that truth was. He hated himself for loving her because to love her meant to put her in danger. He also knew that they lead separate lives; when this was over they would split apart again and that was they way it had always been. He wondered what she was thinking and wondered where they would go from here.

Alex turned around suddenly as Dean was chewing on a slice of Italian sausage pizza and rummaging through the papers spread before him.

"Why?" she asked.

"Could we be a little more specific?" he demanded, still a little peeved at her.

"Why do you want to kill him so badly?"

Dean choked on the pizza he had been swallowing as he realized where this conversation was going. He coughed a few times and turned to stare at her slowly. "Come again?"

"Why do you want to kill Eric?" she said slowly, as if speaking to a child.

He stood up and paced the kitchen, searching for words.

"You're stalling, Dean," she said in a low voice.

"I'm not stalling!" he cried. "I want to kill him so that he won't hurt anyone else. I'm not seeing a happy alternative to our problem. What are you, a damn Care Bear?"

Alex cocked her eyebrow and stared at him, not believing a word. "How many human beings have you killed just because they were a potential threat to society?"

Dean stopped pacing and watched her from the few feet that separated them. "Not many, but that doesn't change the fact that there isn't another way."

"There is _always _another way Dean! You're just too damn stubborn to see it!" she yelled.

"I _can't _see it!" he shouted back.

"Why the hell not?"

They both knew they were yelling and their voices were probably carrying over to the neighbors but neither one really cared. They were toe to toe now, glaring at each other, skin flushed from anger, eyes dilated from emotions to heavy to cast off. Dean looked away first, staring at the black and white tiled linoleum with anger in his eyes.

"Why the hell not Dean?" she demanded, her voice still above the normal level.

"Because it's you!" he shouted back, getting in her face.

She appeared stunned for a few seconds then her face clouded over with anger again.

"You think I can't take care of myself because I'm human now?" she screamed.

"I don't think that at all! I know you can!"

"Then what makes this guy any different from another human being!"

"Because I love you!" he hollered.

His eyes widened at the admission that had blurted from his lips even as his heart rang with truth. She stepped back in shock, searching the floor for an escape route as he began to feel lighter for the truth that had finally escaped. He stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders before she could make a full retreat.

"I want to kill him because he wants to hurt you," he said quietly. "I couldn't deal with that. I love you and I don't want him to hurt you again."

Alex searched his face and felt the strength of his hands on her shoulders. She had never felt more vulnerable and open than at this very moment. She stopped thinking with her brain and let her heart take over; pulling her with it in whichever direction it knew to be the correct one.

"I love you too, Dean."

Sam lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling fan as it swirled in circles above him. The glow of the alarm clock told him that it was just past midnight and the emboldened red numbers taunted him as they ticked off another minute. He could hear Sarah's soft breathing and feel her heartbeat against the side of his chest as she lay curled into his side with her head resting on his shoulder. He realized he was holding her hand and marveled at how small and fragile it seemed wrapped in his own larger, more callused hand. He flashed back to holding Jessica's hand from across the oak library table back in college; saw her beautiful face look up at him from the book she had been intently studying and a sweet smile spread across her face. He felt a sharp pang in his heart at the thought of her and wondered if that steady ache would ever go away. He still blamed himself for her death and he knew this. A hundred people could tell him it wasn't his fault and he would never be able to believe them. If only he had acted on his dreams instead of ignoring them then maybe she would still be alive. He might be married now, or at least engaged, and instead of fighting evil he could be planning his life around happiness. He wondered if Jess saw him now, with another woman in his arms. His breath caught at the thought of how she would feel and a single tear found its way down his face. He knew above all Jess would want him to be happy but he didn't know inside himself if being with Sarah was a betrayal to Jess. He didn't even know what he had with Sarah. There was definitely something there waiting to be found between them but he couldn't decide what it was. Love? Lust? Passion? His head swirled in circles at about the same rhythmic pace as the fan until he began to develop a mild headache from all the self doubts that plagued him. He closed his eyes against the persistent ache that was rapidly developing into a drumbeat and wasn't even aware that he drifted off to sleep.

_Sam stared at the numbers on the red digital clock. They told him it was just past one in the morning and all he could think about was Sarah. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest and the warmth from her body was enough to make him want to remove the covers. He pushed the covers off and gently removed her hand, pulling himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He stood as slowly as possible so as not to wake her up and fumbled his way to the door that would lead to the hallway. He opened the door and was shocked to find a second bedroom. The lights in this room were off too but the bathroom door was slightly ajar. He could hear the steady thrumming of water hitting the shower stall floor as a bar of light spilled out to illuminate a small part of the corner of the room. He squinted his eyes and saw the desk with the blue lava lamp settled into the top right hand corner. The orbs of thick liquid floated steadily up and down, never reaching their final destination. Sam felt himself sympathizing with them; he traveled on and on with his brother and neither one of them ever reached the end of the road. He had a feeling he could travel with Dean forever, doing their job, and never find fulfillment. He knew the life that his brother was asking him to lead was a dead end. The road they traveled spiritually was the same as the blacktop the tires of the Impala sailed on, never ending and dark as a stygian night. _

_He realized he felt just as warm out of the bed as he had under the covers then realized that his arms were no longer bare. He looked down and saw in the shadows of the room that he was now wearing a brown jacket and blue undershirt. His shorts were replaced by faded blue jeans. He felt a lump in his throat as panic began to set in. He recognized these clothes. He turned around in a slow circle, absorbing the room's appearance, breathing in the familiar scent of Jess's perfume. And the candles she had been burning a few hours before . . . . ._

_He took a few steps toward the bed without consciously being aware of it. He felt a hand on his chest, a small one, and he grabbed at it. When he pulled his hand back there was nothing there. He could have sworn it felt like Sarah's hand . . . .but there was nobody around him. He began to feel dizzy and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked down at the covers piled around him. They were dark blue, like the waves of an angry ocean at dusk. He grabbed at them with his hand and felt the silk sliding over his skin. These were Sarah's sheets. He focused, studying the room and the sheets, feeling Sarah's hand on his chest at the same time he couldn't see her. He forced himself to pull away from what his mind was telling him it saw. The room tilted and spun, the shower beat faded away and became the sound of spinning fan blades. The lava lamp melded away, swirling into the shape of an electric static ball. Just as suddenly the room shifted again, back into its original form. The light in the bathroom was still on. He felt himself lay down on the bed completely and close his eyes. He folded his arms across his chest and felt a feminine hand beneath his, right over his heart. He knew if he opened his eyes he would see no one there. He began to drift off to sleep, lulled by the sound of the pounding shower and the soothing scent of lingering vanilla candle. _

_Something warm spattered his forehead, followed by a second drop right below his eye. His stomach clenched so hard it hurt and his blood turned to ice. He felt compelled to open his eyes and he complied, albeit unwillingly. His beautiful, beloved Jessica was pinned to the ceiling by an invisible force. Her eyes were open wide in terror, her lovely blonde locks splayed out around her head in sharp contrast to the white of the walls. Her mouth was open in a frozen cry that would never find its way from her mouth. Then the fire started. It shot from the ceiling, consuming her entire body in a matter of seconds. It didn't burn her immediately. The fire held her there wreathing her body in a frame of orange, red, and gold. Sam felt himself wanting to move, to run, to scream, to cry. He wanted to be anywhere but here. Sam watched in horror as Jess burned alive; it wasn't Jess anymore. The feeling of a hand on his heart was gone now. Jess's body shifted, melted away as thought burned to ashes by the heat of the fire. In her place was another body. Sam screamed, a full throated yell full of all the pain and rage he harbored deep inside. The body on the ceiling . . .it couldn't be . . .not again . . . ._

"Sam!" Sarah yelled.

Sam sprang to a sitting position, sweat covering his upper torso, gasping for breath. Sarah feared his scream had woken the entire dorm. She knew that any of the girls who had awoken from it would be talking locker room talk in the morning. She sighed and swiped at her hair, which had fallen from its ponytail to frame her face in a hundred different places. Sarah grabbed a hold of Sam as he grasped the blankets tucked around his waist in a grip like steel. His hands clenched and unclenched, his breath coming in short and quick gasps.

"Sam, it's okay," she said gently. "It was a nightmare. You're okay now."

She reached for his hand and was startled when he jerked away. He stared at her but to Sarah it seemed he looked both at her and _through_ her at the same time. Almost as if he was in two places at once. He seemed to have one foot in this reality and the other in a place she couldn't see or be part of. She waved her hand in front of his face and was relieved when his gaze shifted to her moving hand.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly. "Sam. Talk to me."

Sam shook his head, sweat streaming down his face. When Sarah reached for his hand a second time he didn't pull away. She held it loosely, afraid to startle him again.

"I can't . . .I can't . . .," he tried to stay. "Sarah, I can't."

"Can't what?" she asked.

He stared into her eyes and seemed to get lost inside them. She squeezed his hand gently and the movement made him jerk away again. This time he seemed fully in the present moment. She saw emotion so strong in his eyes it made her want to cry. Her throat tightened with fear for him and tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. There was such pain, terror and loneliness inside those beautiful brown eyes. He pushed the covers off and slid off the bed. She watched him yank his jeans off the floor and slide into them.

"Sam?" she said. "What happened?"

He turned away and Sarah could practically feel the indecision in him. It overwhelmed her, pushing away her own emotions. She felt it wash away her fear like a tidal wave and suddenly felt like she couldn't even decide what button on her jeans to button first. She stopped suddenly. She wasn't wearing jeans. There were no buttons. Her breath caught in her throat. These weren't her emotions.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, Sarah. Let's just get this job over with."

She was too numb to even respond to his statement. She realized he was blowing her off, that something dramatic had changed from last night to now. She had no idea what had pushed him away like this but she was very sure of one thing. Those hadn't been her emotions in the last ten minutes.

They were his.

_Oh my God, _Alex thought. _What just came out of my mouth? I can't believe I just said that! Quick, build a time machine and go back to five minutes ago. _

Dean appeared just as shocked as she imagined she looked. She wanted to take it back but to do that would be to tell a lie. She did love him. When and how this had come to pass she had no idea. She couldn't even explain to herself _why _she loved him; most of the time he drove her nuts. But she knew that if it came down to it she would die for him and she couldn't say that for too many people.

She felt like time had slowed to a crawl and they were the only two people left in the world. She memorized the way his green eyes shined in the light, the way they stared at her as if she was the only person in the world that mattered. She felt her heart trip hammer against her ribs at the stern set of his jaw, the strength that he carried himself with no matter where he went. She loved his confidence, the way he laughed in the face of danger and made light of the way he lived. All the reasons that she loved him flooded into her mind at once, like a tidal wave attempting to drown her before she could reach shore.

She wanted to take it back though, on another level because with the line of work they did to be in love would make things harder. She didn't want to be distracted from what she had to do because of her feelings for Dean. She knew that was what was happening on this case. Dean was so caught up in how he felt about her he was willing to take a human life. They couldn't let that happen. She knew there had to be another way to save Eric and herself but Dean wasn't willing to see it. His vision was clouded by emotion and she feared that would happen again. They couldn't afford not to see straight.

She felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming eighteen wheeler. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run away, to escape, to take it all back and pretend it never happened. She watched Dean blink away his shock at her response and knew she didn't want to carry this conversation any further. Love was dangerous. Love was a liability. Love got people killed. Love wasn't a luxury neither she nor he could afford.

She felt herself turning on her heel before she even registered her actions in her mind. She got to the foot of the stairs, suddenly indecisive on whether to run upstairs and lock herself in the bathroom or outside where she had several different directions to run. She felt a hand grasp her wrist and turn her around so that she was practically an inch from Dean.

"Why are you running?" he asked.

She jerked her hand away and backed up, finding herself going up the stairs. She fumbled with the railing, trying to find herself a grip before she lost her balance. Dean didn't back down. He came up the stairs after her, matching each retreating step she took with a step forward.

"Because we can't do this, Dean," she told him.

"Why the hell not?" he demanded.

"We can't afford to! Look at what it does to your judgment. You want to kill a kid!" she cried. "I can't imagine what it will do to me!"

"I won't kill him. If that's such an issue I won't kill him."

Alex rolled her eyes and backed up yet another step. "Oh that's great! _Now _you're not going to kill him. You don't get it Dean!"

They had reached the stairwell landing. Once again they were toe to toe, in each other's faces. This time around though their volume was a little more acceptable.

"What don't I get?" he sighed.

"Never mind. My whole entire point just went flying over your head and into the next county. If you run you might be able to catch it," she told him.

Dean set his jaw at her quip and glared down at her. He couldn't understand why she was running from this. It had been hard enough for him to admit that he was in love with someone else and now it was even harder to act on it. He knew, deep down on a level that wasn't reachable at the moment, that she was right. His love for her had made him blind. He was perfectly willing to kill Eric and that wasn't like him. He wasn't usually all gung ho to take a kid's life. But this time he was because it was Alex who was being threatened. He knew that his thirst for revenge scared her. He could see it in her eyes when he talked about it. Her eyes. They were wide now, like huge lakes of frozen sapphires. He worried he would drown in them. The last rays of sunlight were disappearing over the horizon and a few of them found their way through the cracks in the blinds in the bedroom directly behind them. The sunlight set her hair on fire, displaying the bands of brilliant deep red mixed with a dark gold so well camouflaged one would never notice it. But he noticed it. She was a beautiful woman, and not just because of her looks. She was strong and powerful, proving that big things come in small packages. She had a tender side that rarely ever showed but when it did it hinted at what was truly in her heart. Her love for her sister, for those she cared about, went above the call of duty and she knew she would do anything for those few people. His love for her set his heart on fire, and the heat from that fire spread like lava through his veins. He was dying inside, every fiber in his being burned for her touch. He was certain that in the next few seconds he would spontaneously combust and his headstone would read "Here lies Dean Winchester. Died from sexual frustration. He fought a lot of evil and he won't be missed by many."

He shrugged off his thoughts on how lonely his life had managed to be so far and decided he wasn't going to live in the cold anymore. He wasn't going to freeze at night, wondering if he would ever share the same hopes and dreams as his brother. Searching for a woman that could accept him as the freak that he was and love him in spite of it. His hands shot out and seized Alex by the shoulders.

Her heart stopped when he pulled her closer, almost roughly, and with more than a hint of desperation. She felt the electricity zinging back and forth between their bodies, the way she felt like she had run into an invisible wall of flames that separated their respective bodies by a centimeter or less. She stopped thinking. The only thing left was to feel.

She brought her hand up to seize the back of his neck while her other hand grabbed his bicep first, then his waist. He dipped low, arresting her mouth in a kiss so deep she felt her blood boil. His hands fumbled desperately, needing the contact, seeking to ease the fire that burned in every part of his being. He grabbed the edges of her black tank top and their hands met while they pulled it off together. She tossed it on the floor at the same time he yanked his own shirt off. When she touched him she could feel his skin burning, as though he were running a fever without all the other symptoms. He reached down and lifted her easily. She obliged and wrapped her legs around his waist, leaning in for another hungry kiss while he stumbled towards the bedroom right ahead of them. He missed and hit the wall just outside the bedroom. She hopped down from him and quickly undid the buckle on his belt while simultaneously sliding out of her jeans. He grabbed her again, enveloping her mouth in a kiss that made both their tongues dance in an intricate tango of lust and passion. They retreated into the bedroom and she placed her hand on his chest, sending him flying onto the bed with ease. He wondered for a minute if she had regained her demonic strength but then realized it was just adrenaline. She watched a lazy smile spread across his face when he hit the bed and the pillows and her heart fluttered. The heat was building, rising, begging to be released. She yanked off his jeans and sent them to join the rest of their clothing trail. She straddled his hips, biting deep into his neck. His body drew taut and arched off the bed at the stimulation and his hand found her back again, clawed fingers digging in and raking across her flesh. Their lips clashed again and he took her by the shoulders again, pushing her back and sitting up with her still in his lap. Their foreheads touched and the sweat from their bodies mingled together.

"You're sure?" he asked, his question coming in gasps as he attempted to actually breathe.

She gave him a quick kiss on the corner of the mouth and ran her fingers through his hair. She loved him and no matter what her better senses told her she wouldn't have it any other way.

"I'm sure," she responded.

The fire raged.

Sarah's mind whirled. She didn't know how it was possible, but she knew that just now she had been feeling not her own emotions but Sam's. The feeling was gone now and all she felt was her own confusion and fear. She watched Sam pull on his t-shirt and sit down to lace up his tennis shoes all the while trying to puzzle out what had just happened.

"How are we getting rid of this thing?"

The question shook her from her inner turmoil and she forced herself to focus on the reason why Sam was here in the first place. She knew the poltergeist was based in the basement underneath the girls' dorm area. She had been down there a few times before Sam came up but after her last encounter she had decided this was a case she needed reinforcements on. She quickly filled Sam in on what she knew about the thing and began tugging on her own clothes.

As she buttoned the jeans with crisscrossing brown leather straps down the side of the legs and pulled on a brown hide halter top with Native American designs occupying the front she thought back to Sam's sudden change of demeanor. He had gone from loving and caring to cold so quickly she knew it had to do with Jess. She wondered if he was even ready for another relationship, considering the way his last one ended. She pulled a tie string leather necklace with a beads and a feather dangling from the end and placed it around her neck, cinching it so that the beads and feather dangled over her chest. Sarah sank onto her bed and began sliding into knee-high beige leather boots. She knew she would have to bring it up sooner or later but right now it didn't seem to appear like Sam was in any kind of talking mood. She rose from the bed and grabbed up her black leather duffel bag housing all the weapons she had both recently acquired and taken from her sister when she left for college. She had the ingredients that they would need to spread around the four corners of the basement in little jelly jars that she had found.

"Ready?" she asked.

Sam spared her a passing glance and nodded. Her heart twisted suddenly and she felt a wave of guilt mixed in with fear and confusion. She stopped and had to suck in a breath of oxygen to avoid the incredible dizziness that began to seep into her brain. She didn't know what was going on but it was as though she were hardwired into Sam's emotions. She was feeling them as though they were her own. She fought against them, forcing them back mentally and trying to erect a barrier that would keep the floodgate closed. The emotions dimmed but they didn't vanish. They were like a low murmur in her heart, whispering quietly. She wondered for a split second if this was how Alex had felt with her demonic half inside her. Did Alex hear the whisper of evil beneath everything else all the time? Did it roar so loud in her heart that she had to fight with all her strength to keep from being swept away?

Sarah opened her dorm room door and stepped out into the hall. With each girl she passed there was a new emotion in her heart and as soon as she was more than fifteen feet away the feelings were gone. After only fifty steps down the hallway she found herself short of breath and having a harder time holding up the barrier. Tears pricked her eyes and ran silently down her cheeks. She felt depressed, the same feeling she had when Allison had died. She looked wildly around her, searching the faces of those passing until she heard the low sobs coming from the girl's bathroom. Part of her wanted to rush in and help and the other part backed away in an effort to put distance between her and the unseen girl's pain. She moved quickly, almost jogging down the hallway until she came to the door that stated plainly "Basement Access". Sam moved up behind her and placed his hand on the door knob, looking around him quickly before pushing it open and entering the stairwell landing. Sarah followed behind him and shut the door. The lights were dim; some of them flickered as though they were shorting out. The stairs descended down into darkness and the air was chill. Sam descended the stairs after flicking on a flashlight and Sarah followed, relieved to be away from the emotions of others.

They reached the bottom and Sam moved the flashlight beam over a network of pipes crisscrossing each other that ran from the floor to the ceiling and disappeared all over the school. There were boxes piled up in the far corner and a maintenance man's cleaning cart against a far wall. Sarah could make out the tale-tell squeak of rats doing their own thing in the darkness. The few lights on the ceiling did little to provide much illumination and she was forced to bring out her own flashlight to aid her eyes.

Sam walked around slowly and Sarah could feel his anxiety. She knew he wasn't anxious about the poltergeist; there was something else that weighed heavily on him. She stopped searching for the four corners of the basement and crossed her arms over her chest impatiently.

"Sam," she demanded. "What the hell is going on with you?"

He stopped and turned to face her. "What are you talking about?"

"Last night, today. Everything's different. _You're _different."

"I just have some things I need to work through," he told her.

"Is this about Jess?" she asked.

He swallowed hard and Sarah felt the knife of pain in his heart at the mention of his former lover's name. She gasped and fought down a wave of nausea. Sam's eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I woke up this morning and suddenly I felt other people's emotions."

"What?"

"I feel your emotions Sam. I feel everyone's emotions. I can't control it; I don't even know where to start trying."

Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She waved her hand in his direction as if to shrug him off and handed him two of the jars.

"Those two corners," she told him.

Sam took the jars from her hand and wandered off, concern and worry etched on his handsome features. She went the opposite way, finding the first corner and unscrewing the jar within a matter of minutes. She searched for a loose brick and removed it from the wall with the help of a screwdriver she had in her duffel bag. She placed the mix of herbs and other ingredients inside the wall and put the brick back in its rightful place. She hurried toward the other end of the basement on her side and stopped when she felt the air start shifting around her. It hummed, as though electrified and Sarah's hair slowly stood up on the back of her neck.

"Sam!" she yelled. "It's here!"

"I'm almost done!" he hollered back.

She ran for the wall that she had been aiming for and went flying backwards about three paces away from it. She hit the cement floor and rolled, stunned by the blow. She felt her body lift again as an invisible hands grabbed her, throwing her another fifteen feet against the brick wall. Her shoulders connected first, then the back of her head and she slid down the wall, leaving a trail of cuts and scratches down her back and shoulders. Out of the dim light she could see Sam appear, running in her direction. She could feel the poltergeist focus its attention on him. She could feel annoyance. _I didn't know poltergeists felt emotion, _she thought slowly.

"Go!" Sam yelled. "Finish it!"

She watched him get thrown against a wall the same way she had. Only this time the poltergeist didn't stop there. Sam was pulled to his feet and pinned against the wall, his feet dangling off the ground as the invisible hands strangled him. She hesitated, feeling his pain and desperation. She felt as though she was drowning and she couldn't breathe either. Her breath came in labored gasps as she found the corner and fumbled with the jar lid. Her vision darkened, red appearing at the corners of her eyes when she tried to focus.

"Sam!" she screamed.

Her voice was hoarse and raw, as though her throat were constricted. She threw the contents of the jar into a convenient rat hole and felt the poltergeist's pain as it was torn to shreds by the power of the mixture. She sat down against the wall, in too much anguish too move, pain pulling at every part of her being. She began sobbing and it hurt even to do that much. Emotions flooded her mind, coming in from all angles, from every person that was within a radius she couldn't comprehend. Her mind was falling apart, shattering like a mirror on the ground. She felt hands on her shoulders, strong hands, hands she didn't recognize. She was gone now, floating in a sea of feeling, lost inside herself.

One thought rose above it all. She was being swallowed whole.

Alex poured the cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table thinking about last night. It had been so many things, above all wonderful, and she couldn't help the smile that touched at her lips. She had gotten up early this morning, before Dean, and showered. Her long red locks were pulled back in a ponytail that was held tight with interwoven leather straps that crisscrossed all the way down to her shoulder blades. She had to keep brushing back the two bangs that framed the sides of her face.

Her thoughts about their union were not all happy though. She wondered what would become of them. She couldn't help but feel that the step they had just taken might be too much for either of them to handle at the moment. Sex usually meant commitment of some kind and they just weren't the commitment type. They each led their own life, going the same way but on a different course, and Dean was always worried about the thing that took his mom and Jess. She knew he was even though he didn't show it outwardly. He was worried that if it knew about her she would die too. There just seemed to be too many problems that came from their feelings than there were solutions.

_Speaking of solutions . . ._she thought. She still had no idea what to do about Eric. Alex wanted to redeem him, to try and save him from himself but she had no clue where to start. This kid didn't seem to care about anyone or anything in any real way that would help him. He was bitter and angry. She knew there must be a way to reach him but it was lost on her if there was. She shifted in her chair and looked up as Dean entered the kitchen, freshly showered. His hair was still wet and small droplets clung to his forehead, shining in the morning sunlight that filtered through the sliding glass door blinds. He was dressed casually in faded blue jeans, black boots, and a grey shirt with a band symbol she didn't recognize on the front.

"Morning," he said by way of greeting as he reached for a coffee mug.

"Early bird gets the worm," she replied. "Although I don't see any worms around."

"So what's on the agenda for today?"

"Mmmm," she thought, "I'd have to go with stopping a psycho killer for a thousand, Alex."

He smiled at the joke and poured his coffee. "How do you plan to do that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I've been thinking on it and so far I'm coming up blank."

"We could just . . ." he started.

"Dean, we talked about this. No killing the crazy kid."

Dean sighed. "So if we can't kill him then what are we supposed to do?"

"Find what will break him. He's still a kid and if we can find a weakness we can use that to our advantage."

Dean straddled the kitchen chair, nodding in agreement. "So what do we know that's useful?"

Alex thought about it for a few minutes. Dean noticed that she bit her lip slightly when she was thinking and the thought made him smile. He wasn't sure that falling in love with a half-demon was the best idea in the world, or even if falling in love at all was okay, but he knew that he couldn't stop the way he felt. He had no idea where to go from here, what they were supposed to do to make this work but he wasn't going to let it fail for the sake of not trying.

"We know that he was abused. We know where he lives and who he lives with. We know that he desires love, just as much as the next neglected child. It's a textbook psychology case. He's not getting the attention and love he needs at home so he's looking for it elsewhere. Failing to find it for so long he tries to create it. He's hurt and angry. With his powers, that makes him dangerous. But not unreachable."

"So how about we pay a visit to daddy dearest?" Dean queried.

"That could work, or at least give us some more pieces to the puzzle. We could also talk to the mother and sister. Maybe they could give us something we're missing."

Dean nodded.

"So, about last night . . .," Alex started.

"What? Was there something wrong?" Dean asked, alarmed.

Alex bit back a laugh. To think that Dean was suddenly worried about his performance. "No, nothing like that. It was . . .great. Better than great but I'm not going into a play by play. I'm just wondering what last night means."

Dean breathed a small sigh of relief and fiddled with his coffee cup. "I'm not sure. I've been thinking about that myself. I mean, you're not expecting a wedding ring or anything, right?"

"Ummm, no. I'm not really the commitment type."

"Me either," he replied. "And yet here we are."

"Yes, but where is 'here' exactly?"

"I don't know, Alex. We went through the hard part already, at least what would be the hard part for us. The admitting we love each other stage."

"Uh-huh. But that doesn't change the fact that we can't be around each other all the time. So where does this go?"

Dean shrugged. "It is what it is. Let's just see where it takes us and not worry about the rest."

She nodded, mildly satisfied with that line of logic. She drained the rest of her coffee and stood. "Time to go get some answers."

Dalton Samuels was buried underneath the engine of a Honda Civic when Alex and Dean entered the garage. Dean contemplated picking up the heavy drill lying on the table next to him and burying in the creep's cranium but quickly thought better of a lifetime in prison. He despised anyone who would hit someone weaker than themself. A man who hit a woman or a child was the worst of the human race in his opinion.

"Dalton Samuels?" Alex said loudly.

There was a small amount of cursing before the board slid out from under the car and a man with long black hair tied back in a ponytail at the base of his neck stood up. He was about as tall as Dean, with a stockier frame, and he wore greasy coveralls. His hands and arms bore the scars of several battles with vehicles from carburetor burns to cuts from sharp edges. He had the same piercing stare that his son did with the small but notable exception that his eyes seemed deader. More lifeless and certainly more emotionless. Alex thought of a shark, with those cold dead eyes.

"What the hell do you want?" he growled.

Alex's own eyes flashed in anger. She crossed her arms over her chest and bit back a savage reply. "We're here to talk to you about your son," she grated.

"Yeah? What about him? What did the little punk do this time?"

"Little punk?" Dean echoed.

"That's what I said. You deaf or somethin'?"

Alex felt the pendant against her chest heating up, it almost burned her skin. She knew that she was still slightly connected to her demonic half. It wasn't gone, just locked away where it couldn't control her. She could still feel it though but not in a way that endangered her. Her own anger was causing the power stored in the pendant to react.

Alex felt eyes drilling into her back. Her stomach flipped and she didn't dare turn around. She knew that Eric was watching. She also had a crazy idea.

"I have to go the little ladies room," she whispered in Dean's ear. "Don't throw any punches."

She walked away quickly, looking over her shoulder before ducking around the side of the building. There was a field behind it and beyond that a set of apartment buildings on the other side of a drainage ditch running the length of the field. She walked a short ways into the field, cursing as the knee high grass brushed against her bare calves. She was wearing camouflage print Capri's with black tennis shoes and a green long sleeved, camouflage print hooded jacket with a zip up front. The jacket was cropped, exposing a decent part of her abdomen that the grass kept tickling at. She swatted the grass aside and waited, listening for sounds of movement. There was a whisper in the grass behind her and she pretended not to notice. When the hand came out of nowhere from behind her and tried to grab her she snatched it, throwing her body weight forward and pitching Eric over her shoulder and onto the ground.

"No parlor tricks," she told him. "Just you and me if you want to fight."

"You shouldn't be here," he snarled. "My dad has nothing to do with this."

"He has everything to do with this," she retorted. "You called the fight with me. Wrong move. I'm not some hapless girl that can't take care of herself Eric."

Eric moved to stand and she withdrew a gun from the waistband of her pants. She cocked it and leveled it at his face while straddling his body with her feet. "This bullet moves much faster than your mental abilities. I would stay down and be very, very good."

"What do you want?" he sighed.

"Better question, what do _you _want?" she countered. "You want to kill me because I stopped you from tormenting an innocent woman. You're like a petulant three year old that didn't get his way."

"I loved her!" he cried.

"No you didn't, Eric. You were infatuated with her. She was special and you made something more of it. Your issue is you want to be loved. But like Dean said before, you can't make someone love you. It just happens."

"How?" he demanded.

"If I knew the answer to that question I would have been happy about ten boyfriends ago. Nobody can answer that. It happens differently for each person and no relationship is the same. Now, about your pea brained father. He hits you?"

Eric swallowed hard, no longer looking at the gun but at her. His pain was deep and Alex could see it in his eyes. There were a lot of wounds in that soul, so many it would take a long time to fully heal. Her heart went out to him for a million reasons and she wanted nothing more at the moment than to tell him everything would be okay. But she knew that he was still dangerous and she hadn't even scratched the surface of his recovery. The fact that he was talking to her without hate in his eyes was a very good start.

"Yeah, and my kid sister."

"What about your mom?"

"He hits her too. She's too scared to do anything about it. I don't blame her. He's all we've got for money," he said and his voice cracked.

"How old is your sister?" she asked, a little more gently.

"She'll be ten this year. Her name is Andrea."

"You look out for her don't you? Try and protect her. Is that where you got that?" she indicated the burn on his left arm.

Eric tried to hide the injured arm but with little success. "Yeah."

She nodded. "I know how that is. I have a little sister."

"Your folks ever hit you?" he asked.

"No. But I've seen and experienced lots of other things that are just as bad."

"Then how can you understand?" he demanded. Anger tinged his voice. "You're all the same! You all say you understand and you want to help but you can't! You don't care! You just don't want me to kill you."

"Lots of things have tried to kill me and it looks to me like I'm the one still standing. I'm not scared of you Eric. Don't ever think for a second that I am."

Eric glared at her and she moved away, sliding the gun back into the waistband of her pants. She reached down and grabbed his uninjured arm, pulling him to his feet.

"I'm going to help you in whatever way you can and I'm not looking over my shoulder while I do it. If you want help then leave me alone and let me do my thing. If you want to kill me then go ahead and try. Either way, this isn't over."

She walked away, leaving the kid there to stand and wonder.

Sam managed to get Sarah back to the dorm room without too many questioning stares. Most of the kids were in class or in their rooms doing whatever it is they did this early in the morning. Only one or two girls saw him carry her limp body down the hall. He locked her door and hurried back to her side, worry clouding his thoughts. He had no idea what was happening to her or how to even begin to help her. Fear for her life overrode all his previous misconceptions. He grabbed her hand and stroked her forehead. She was conscious, albeit barely, and kept muttering to herself. Her head tossed and turned and he put his palm on it, applying pressure to keep her head still, while stroking her hair.

"Sarah, what's wrong?" he asked gently. "Come on, Sarah, talk to me."

"Stop worrying Sam," she said hoarsely. Her voice trembled when she spoke, as though it were hard for her to focus on her words. "Stop feeling."

He didn't have to wonder how she knew he was worried. He was practically dripping with it. Everything about his whole manner screamed worry. "What do you mean?"

Tears stained her face and he watched more spill out as her face scrunched up in pain. Her breath was labored and her skin seemed to be on fire. There was a thin sheet of sweat soaking her skin as she came in and out of the present moment.

"Stop . . .," she gasped. "Feeling. No more . . ."

He struggled to understand what she meant. She was sobbing now and her whole body trembled beneath his touch. It seemed to Sam that her body temperature had gone up again. "Sarah! You have to tell me what's wrong! Sarah . . .I don't know how to help you."

"Emotions!" she yelled suddenly. Her voice was panicked, terrified, anguished, and desperate all at the same time. "Too much . . . .hurts . . . ."

Her voice dropped back down to a whisper. Her hands flew to her temples, pushing with sudden ferocity, forcing the skin around her hands turn to white as the blood was pushed away. Sam grabbed her wrists and attempted to pull her hands away from her head. She fought back and Sam brought his forehead to hers. Tears fell from his own eyes and mingled with hers as he struggled to pull her hands away.

"Sarah, please," he begged between sobs. "Help me know what to do. I can't lose you!"

"Emotions," she said. For one single moment her voice was crystal clear. As though the Sarah he knew and loved had surged forward and reclaimed her body. _Wait a second . . ._he thought _. . .loved?_ He yanked himself from his stunned thought as she spoke again. Her voice shook. He had the distinct impression that she was fighting to remain clear. "I feel . . .everyone's emotions! Too much. . . Sam it hurts!"

He flashed back suddenly to earlier that morning. _"I feel your emotions Sam. I feel everyone's emotions. I can't control it; I don't even know where to start trying." _It hit him like a lightning bolt. Empathy. It was a psychic ability. The power to feel other people's emotions as if they were your own. He had heard of this ability and how people had learned to control it to the point they could manipulate people's emotions as well. He didn't know if this was true or not but he knew what was happening to Sarah.

The empathic power was killing her. She had opened a floodgate by detecting his emotions and she couldn't shut it. All of the emotions of everyone around her, including his own, were slowly shattering everything inside her. Her mind, her heart, her soul, her will to live was all evaporating beneath the crush of emotion. She would either die from the stress on her mind and body or go completely insane. He had to help her beat this before he failed again. He couldn't lose her like he had lost Jess.

"Sarah you can fight this. Just cut the other emotions off. Focus on mine, Sarah, focus on my emotions! Block all the other ones out!"

Her fingers curled, forming claws, and she screamed in pain. Sam quickly covered her mouth so that the whole dorm didn't come running. He couldn't help her if he was dragged out of the room and she was rushed to a hospital. Doctors couldn't save her. She shook on the bed, her body spasming and trembling. Still holding onto her wrists he sat at the edge of the bed and laid his head on her chest. Her heart raced beneath her skin and it pounded like a drum beneath his ear. "Sarah fight it," he whispered. He removed his hands from her wrist and took her hands, easing them into a relaxed hold. He bent and touched his lips to her forehead. He knew he loved her deep down inside of him were he was afraid to venture. He also knew deep down that Jess would want him to be happy even if it were with another woman. He didn't know what this meant but he did know that he couldn't bear to lose Sarah too.

"Stay with me."

_Three hours later . . . ._

Sam rubbed his eyes which were blurry from the mounting emotional exhaustion and checked his watch. It was only two in the afternoon. Outside he could hear the college students laughing and doors shutting. Sarah had fallen deep inside herself and had stopped responding to anything he said or did about an hour ago. Her skin was ashen but when he touched it he felt like his hand was on fire. Beads of perspiration dotted her skin and every now and then the only outward sign of life that she gave was when her face scrunched in unbearable agony. He had no idea how to even begin to understand what she was feeling, which was probably everything within a ten mile radius. To control your own emotions was hard enough; he couldn't imagine trying to control the emotions of others.

He took her hand and winced at how limp and fragile it was in his own. Emotion welled in him and he quickly stamped it out, not wanting to add fuel to the fire already raging inside her. He found that easier said than done, however. His were feelings that he had stamped down long enough and he found it difficult to continue doing so when her life was on the line. All he could think about was her smile and how she made him feel just by being near him. Safe. Secure. Loved. She never judged him, not from the moment she had first walked through their hotel room door. She lived the life that he blamed so much of his loss on and still wore a smile on her face. Sarah had an inner strength that Sam didn't think even she recognized. He knew she could beat this but he also knew she would need his help. Sam didn't intend to fail her.

_Sarah walked down the park trail, lined with huge oak trees and smaller shrubbery, not certain of where she was going. Behind her she could hear the voices of her fellow college mates and when she turned around all she saw was the path she had already walked. It was beautiful out here, wherever here was. She felt a hand in hers and looked down to find her own hand empty. A monarch butterfly fluttered around her head and she stopped walking to admire it. It was a lovely creature. She felt the need to continue on and so she did, walking slowly through the trees. _

_She felt a distant pain inside her chest, centered around her heart, but it wasn't something she could bring herself to focus entirely on. She knew that she should be feeling the pain distinctly and a part of her knew that it was killing her slowly, like a cancer that wasn't cured in time. Again she felt the strength of a hand holding hers but she knew that when she looked down she would find nothing but emptiness. _

_Sarah came to the point where the dirt path at her feet ended and opened into a children's park. There was no children playing here, however, and she found the lack of laughter disturbing. In the center of the park was a worn swing set and on one of the swings, swaying back and forth with the slight breeze, was a woman. She wore a long white dress that trailed the ground with each passing. Sarah hurried her strides and when she was only a few feet away her heart skipped a beat. She drew in a breath and suddenly forgot to let it out. Sarah slowly walked around the woman until she was facing her from the front. _

"_Allison?" she gasped. _

_Her dead sister smiled gently and in that smile Sarah knew that this wasn't a lie. Her sister was here and this was real in some way that she couldn't begin to explain. Allison looked exactly like Alex, but there was a difference that only Sarah could tell. Allison seemed softer, more gentle, and didn't have the hard edges that Alex had surrounding her at almost all times. The difference was subtle yet there. A tear slid down Sarah's cheek and began a rapid descent to land on the pebbles at her feet. _

"_What are you doing here?" Sarah asked. _

"_Saving your life," her sister replied simply. _

_Allison motioned to the empty swing next to her and Sarah sat, still uncertain of what was going on. _

"_What do you mean?" _

"_I think you know that your power of premonition is expanding. There isn't much I can tell you; it's against the rules. I can tell you that if you don't get your new ability under control then it will destroy you."_

"_What rules?"_

"_I can't tell you that either. I wish I could explain everything but this journey is yours to uncover."_

"_Sometimes I feel so alone," Sarah admitted._

"_Allison turned to study her with those deep ice blue eyes so similar to Alex's. There was a gentle love hidden in their depths and Sarah locked onto it, clinging desperately. _

"_You are not alone. You never have been," Allison told her. "Alex may be many things, among those hardened to her own emotions, but she does love you. She has never given you reason to doubt that. And now you have Sam."_

"_Sam doesn't love me. He still loves Jessica."_

_Allison nodded slowly, studying the same monarch butterfly that had flown past Sarah earlier. "That may be so. A part of him will always love Jessica. But who are you to say that he doesn't love you? Amidst the turmoil of all the emotions your corporeal body is experiencing, how can you possibly pick out only his?"_

_Sarah shrugged. "I can't. I just don't think that he loves me like I want him too."_

_Allison smiled and imitated her younger sister's noncommittal shrug. "Think as you like."_

"_Do you know something I don't?" Sarah asked._

"_I know many things that you don't. One advantage of being dead, I suppose. I see things in your paths yet unwalked that you cannot foresee."_

"_I miss you. I wish you were still alive."_

"_I know. But things are as they are and we cannot do anything to change that. You must learn to control your new gift. You must learn to focus, and find your center."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because it is not your time to die. You have much before you that is yet undone. Many lives to save and good to be done. Great trials lay ahead of you and Alex both. I have seen darkness that will take all of your strength, for both of you, to overcome."_

"_What kind of darkness? What are you talking about?"_

"_This I cannot tell you for I am not allowed to interfere. All I can tell you is that there are trials for the both of you on the horizon and to surpass them you will need everything you have and most of all you will need each other."_

"_How do I find my center?" _

"_Deep inside you there is a place where no one else can touch. It is a place of focus and peace. Only you can find it as Alex has done before you. It is how she controlled her darker half for all these years until finally she could control it no longer."_

"_What happens if I can't control this either?" Sarah asked hesitantly._

"_You can! You have so much strength inside you Sarah. You never see it though; you always look to Alex for strength when it was inside you all along. You were always the heart of the three of us and that hasn't changed. The heart is what keeps the machinery of the body running in perfect function. Without it the body would die."_

"_I don't know how to find my center. I don't know how to block out the pain."_

"_Search inside yourself deeper than you've ever gone before. You will find all your answers there."_

_Allison stood and the swing swung back and forth from the sudden movement. Sarah's heart wrenched when she realized her sister was leaving her again._

"_No please! Don't go! Stay here with me."_

"_I cannot. And you cannot stay here either. Your destiny lies elsewhere. We will be together again someday," Allison told her gently. _

_Sarah jumped off the swing and ran to her older sister. If Sarah had been the heart of the group then Allison had been the soul. She enfolded her sister tightly, hugging with all her strength. Sarah let go of everything, tears sliding down her face, shoulders bobbing with each sob that came from deep within her. A place deeper down inside herself than she had ever dared to go. Allison returned the hug and they stood there for what must have been an eternity to Sarah but in all actuality was only a few minutes. Finally Allison firmly pushed Sarah away by the shoulders. _

"_I have to go now and so do you. Find your strength within yourself and you will rise above it all," Allison told her. "I love you. I am always with you, always watching. There is greatness in you and in your current company it won't be long before you find it."_

"_I love you too," Sarah said. "Will I see you again?"_

"_Maybe," Allison said vaguely. "Maybe not. I can't say for sure."_

_Sarah nodded. "How do I get back?"_

_Allison laughed. "Feel, Sarah. You just have to feel."_

_Sarah felt the hand in hers again, the one she couldn't see in this reality. She heard a voice, a male's voice, raising above all the others and she knew it to be Sam. _

"_Go," her sister said firmly. She pushed Sarah by the shoulders and when Sarah turned around her sister had gone. _

_Sarah focused on the hand in her own, the feeling of warmth and security that it provided and felt herself being pulled back to her body. She knew somehow, without knowing how she knew, that she would see this place again._

Alex walked back into the garage and knew instantly that Dean was having an incredibly difficult time of keeping himself in check. He glanced at her curiously when she appeared at his side but held his questions back. Alex turned her gaze away from him and let it fall on the monstrosity in front of her that dared to call itself a father. She hated him immensely for what he had done to his family; the scars that he had imparted as his legacy. He reeked of alcohol and Alex wrinkled her nose in disgust. It didn't matter to her that he worked a nine to five to keep his family fed. His family would do better without him. She felt the pendant hanging around her neck heating up, the darkness inside it swirling to an explosive point.

"We know what you do," she said harshly, cutting right to the point.

He wiped his hands casually on a filthy towel already covered in grease and oil which did little to clean the hands that were wiped against it. His eyes bored into hers, unflinching. He was a cocky bastard, sure of himself and his strength. Dalton Samuels viewed all people the same; weaker than him and convinced of his superiority by sheer strength alone. He ruled through terror and Alex hated that about him. She hated that he could stand to be alive day after day knowing what he was doing to those kids.

"And what's that?" he sneered, not at all intimidated.

"Hitting your kids," Dean challenged. "And your wife. Probably your dog, too."

Dalton smiled cruelly. "I don't have a dog."

"Damn good thing," Dean supplied.

"You with CPS or somethin?" Dalton demanded.

"No," Alex told him. "CPS must have their heads up their ass to let you be a father."

"CPS couldn't find nothin wrong with my parenting skills," he said smugly.

"What parenting skills?" Alex hissed. "You're a disgrace to every decent parent on the planet. You're weak and you're a coward."

Dalton's face turned a slightly redder shade at the insult. Alex knew she had hit a raw nerve. For somebody who believed himself as self-important as Dalton Samuels did, calling him a coward was worse than any other insult on the planet. People who believed they were strong and invincible didn't take kindly to being told something else.

"You better watch your mouth," he warned dangerously.

"Or what? You'll punch it for me?" she challenged.

Dalton nodded knowingly. "Might just have to."

Dean's fists clenched at his sides. Alex discreetly reached out a hand to steady him and to let him know that she could fight her own battles.

"I'd love the excuse to put that crowbar over there upside your head," she taunted.

Dalton just smiled that cold, dead smile and tossed down the rag he had been holding.

"We're not here to beg you not to hit your kids anymore," Dean said, regaining his self control. "We're here to _tell_ you to stop hitting your kids."

"Or else what?"

It was Dean's turn to smile coldly.

Dalton's face turned red with anger. "Those are my kids. I can do whatever the hell I want with them. Nobody, not you, not the government, not the cops, NOBODY can tell me otherwise!" he screamed. He lowered his voice and leaned in close to Dean. "I'll beat that boy into the ground six feet under if I feel like it and as for his bitch of a sister, well, there are a lot of other uses for women."

Dalton leaned back with a look of absolute superiority. Dean's right hook wiped that look completely off his face. Alex jumped back in surprise as Dalton smashed into the hood of the car he had been working under and laid sprawled against it.

"Damn that felt good!" Dean yelled.

He grabbed Dalton by the shirt and pounded his fist into his gut hard enough to cause internal bleeding. Alex couldn't decide whether to break out the popcorn and easy chair or to stop him. She decided not to decide and stood back as Dean punched Dalton in the face again, causing his left eye to swell shut and turn a dark shade of purple.

Dean leaned in close to the enraged and injured Samuels patriarch and pitched his voice threateningly low. "I've taken things out of this world that are on the same level as you. Please give me an excuse to do the world another favor."

Dean turned around and took a few steps away. He waited for Dalton to straighten himself out and stand up from his position of laying on the hood of the car before spinning around suddenly and hitting the bastard with another right hook that knocked him flat to the ground. Alex whistled in admiration.

"He's out cold, Dean."

"I know."

"Don't you think you went a little too far?"

"Absolutely not."

"What if he files charges against you with the cops?" she asked.

"He won't."

"How do you know?"

"He's too proud. He won't let the cops handle his business when he thinks he can attend to it himself."

"So he'll be back for more," Alex reasoned.

"Like I said, I'll do the world a favor."

Sarah's eyes fluttered open and she felt a small measure of relief when she realized that the hand she had felt in her dream had been Sam's all along. He had his eyes closed and his head was resting on her stomach. She knew he wasn't asleep because his breathing wasn't deep and rhythmic. Deep inside her she knew that it hadn't been a dream. Somehow she had been with her sister in another place and that had been as real as where she was laying now. The emotions of other people churned inside her body, the same body that was rapidly beginning it's descent into death, and she fought to claw her way through them.

Allison had told her to find her center. To find the place inside herself deeper than she had ever gone before. She felt like she was swimming through the depths of the ocean where the currents were too strong to fight and she was as blind as a bat without echolocation. All the emotions inside her were not her own. She couldn't even begin to know where to look for her own emotions. She felt love, anger, hate, happiness, sadness, despair, loneliness, giddiness, desperation, fear, envy, worry, disgust, complacency; she felt everything under the sun known to man and they swirled like a hurricane inside her soul.

She clawed down deeper, searching past the emotions, pushing them away as she went as well as she could in her current state. The deeper she went the quieter the chaos inside her became. She felt as though she was moving away from the hurricane and she went inside herself more fully, searching for that place of peace.

Sarah blocked them all out and eventually the few emotions she could still feel began to have faces with them. People she knew. She felt the worry of her friend Tara down the hall and it was easier to dismiss her emotion when she knew who it belonged to. She kept searching, finding the people that the emotions belonged to. She wanted to help them all, the ones that were hurting or scared, but she knew she had to save herself first. She pushed them all away until she came to just one.

Her hand squeezed Sam's and he lifted his head, staring hopefully into her eyes. She could see the lines of worry creasing his face, the emotional exhaustion that had taken a toll on him. He had been scared to death of losing her and that was something she could feel easily. But there was something else lurking there, something more subtle. Love. He felt love and it wasn't for Jess or his brother. There was love for them there too, even for Alex in a different way. But the love she felt now, inside her heart as though it were her own, was his love for her. She knew now, no matter how hard it might be for him to get past his loss of Jessica, he was in love with her. Her eyes filled with tears as she found her place of peace. She focused on her love for him, on the way their hearts had beat as one in the depths of sleep, and the emotions that had been roaring inside her stilled.

She had found her center.

"Sam?" she whispered.

"What?" he asked.

"I'll stay with you."

_One Day Later . . ._

Sarah opened the door when she heard the knock and smiled when she saw Sam standing there with his hands buried in his pockets. He looked past her to the suitcases piled on the bed and the stacks of clothes already neatly folded inside.

She ushered him into the room and shut the door, leaning against the door with her hands still on the knob behind her back.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, still eyeing the suitcases.

"Uh huh," she replied, nodding. Her hair, in curls today, bounced slightly with the movement. "With you."

Sam raised an eyebrow and eased down onto the bed. "I thought you wanted to finish college."

"I said I wanted to try college and I did. It doesn't mean I can't come back to it later but right now I need to be with Alex. And with you," she answered.

"If that's what you want," he offered. "I think you should finish college but whatever you want is what's important."

"This is what I want. I want to be with you and I need to be with my sister right now."

Sam nodded and stood up. There was apprehension in his eyes but Sarah turned herself off to his emotions as she had been doing to everyone else in her vicinity. She was learning to control her new gift but that control came with a price. She had to focus to retain that control and it cost her a lot of mental and emotional energy that left her in a state of constant exhaustion.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Are you doing your psychic wonder thing?" he demanded.

She laughed. "No. It's all over your face. Something is on your mind and it's important. So what is it?"

Sam sighed and shuffled his feet, obviously searching for the words. He seemed to be searching for them on the ceiling, as if expecting them to fall from the story above them and smack him in the head.

"I have to tell you something and I'm not sure how to say it," he began slowly. "I was afraid for the longest time that falling in love again would be betraying Jess. And to be completely honest, I was afraid the same thing that happened to Jess would happen to whoever I fell in love with again. Actually, I'm terrified of that. I'm terrified I won't be able to stop it from happening again and the people I love will just keep dying."

Sarah bit her lip and sat down in her computer chair, waiting for his next words. She didn't offer any of her own because she knew that he was thinking aloud and sorting through his feelings while he did so. This wasn't the time for her to talk.

"I loved Jessica more than anything in the world. I wanted to marry her and spend my life with her, just another average Joe working an average job and living an average life. But the life I kept secret from her stole that away. I always thought I should have told her but at the time I thought I had gotten away from it."

Sam paced the room, anxiety quickening his steps. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that a part of me will always love Jess."

He stopped pacing suddenly and rushed to her, drawing her up to stand before him by the hands. Her heart quickened at the look in his eyes, the tenderness she saw there. "But the majority of me, that part that's important right now is very glad you're coming back with me. Because I love you and I wouldn't have it any other way."

She had never expected to hear those words. She was stunned for a few moments and had to struggle to remember that it was now her turn to speak. "Sam . . .I wouldn't want you to not love Jess. I know you do and I'm glad you do. She was a big part of your life and that's not easy to let go of. But the fact of the matter is, I love you too and there just isn't going to be any other way."

Sam beamed, a huge childish smile crossing his handsome features and he drew her into a hug that made the whole world vanish. She felt completely safe and secure. After a few minutes she drew away with regret and went back to packing her suitcases.

"By the way," she tossed over her shoulder at him. "I'm driving."

A blonde haired woman stood outside the campus, staring up at the window that marked Sarah Delaney's room. She knew both the psychics were in there; the light was on shining like a beacon into the night. Back in Texas she was aware of the movements of the other two, the half breed and the hunter, by the connections she had placed to watch them in her absence. Their time in Texas, and in California, was drawing to a close. Soon they would decide there was nothing more that they could do and move on as they always did. Eternal drifters fighting the good fight. The woman sneered at the thought.

She had worked hard to get everything into place as per her orders. Contacts had been made, people set up, and now everything was in position for the last stretch of the plan. All she was relying on now was the foursome's predictability. Wherever there was trouble they would swoop in to save the day, and then disappear again into the shadows. Her cell phone buzzed against her hip in the holster she wore on her belt. She removed it and flipped it open, already knowing who was on the other end.

"You're there I trust," another woman's voice came back.

"Staring at their shadows against the window drapes," she replied.

"Good. Everything else is in place. We don't rush this," the other woman instructed. "We've worked too long to make sure this plan works."

The blonde nodded but then realized her counterpart couldn't see her. "I know. Everything will go as planned. I can feel it."

"It had better be more than a feeling. He won't tolerate failure this time," her partner told her.

The blonde sucked in her breath. "Neither will I. The plan is ingenious and will work much better than trying to kill them all outright. They're too strong together."

"Too much of a threat," the caller agreed. "He was going to leave them alone, for the most part, until the other two showed up. Now combined they're becoming a problem."

"Every problem has a solution in some form," the blonde reassured her.

"That's what I like to hear."

"I won't fail you. Everything will be done according to plan. Once they get to where we want them, their little family is going to fall apart."

"Good. I'll contact you at the appointed time. Watch your back."

The blonde slid the cell phone back into her belt holder and continued staring at the window. The light switched off and she smiled. The youngest were running back to their older brother and sister. How sweet. Once they were together again it would make it that much easier to maneuver them into position.

She watched for a bit longer, the slight breeze swaying her ponytail, and witnessed them come out the front dorm door. The girl was carrying a suitcase and the boy a backpack. They walked quickly along the sidewalk and disappeared into the night.

The blonde woman melded back into the shadows with ease and disappeared from the view of any wandering eyes. Her sadistic smile seemed to linger behind for a moment though, as though the Cheshire Cat from Allison in Wonderland had taken her place.

"You talked to him?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Yeah, while you were talking to Daddy Dearest," she replied.

She tapped the ash from her cigarette into the crystalline ashtray she had placed on the kitchen counter and set it down. The smoke swirled into the air, tracing patterns before it dissipated into nothing.

Dean set his jaw and stared hard at the table. He didn't like the idea of Alex being alone with that kid. He still didn't think he could be trusted and if anything had happened to her he would never forgive himself. He was startled by a hand on his jaw and he turned to see Alex leaning over him.

"I'm fine Dean," she reminded him. "Here in one whole Alex piece."

She kissed him firmly and all his thoughts of anger flew from his mind as he returned the kiss with enough electricity to light up the entire state of Texas should it suffer a blackout. Dean stood from his chair, still trying to maintain the kiss, and moved her against the kitchen wall. He realized that nothing in his life felt as right as when he was sharing it with Alex. His kiss became less frantic, and more passionate, and he filled it with the emotion in his heart. He could feel Alex doing the same from her standpoint and the end result left him breathless.

After several minutes they parted and returned to their former positions in the kitchen. Alex picked up her cigarette, which had burned halfway out, and lifted herself to sit on the countertop.

"He wants help Dean," she said. "I could see it in his eyes."

"I've seen a lot of things in his eyes and most of it wasn't a cry for help."

"I know," she agreed. "But he's just a kid and look at what he's been through."

Dean nodded. "Nobody should have to go through that kind of pain but I honestly don't know what we can do about it. It wasn't right to kill the kid and from that point of view it's not right to kill the dad either."

Alex scoffed. "To me he's just another demon."

"I thought the same thing about Eric," he reminded her.

"Point taken," she said. "But then what do we do?"

Dean sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "I don't know. If the authorities won't do anything then what can we do?"

"Didn't Mr. Aycott say that the authorities didn't do anything because they didn't have any proof there was actually abuse taking place?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Why? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking if there was proof that could get Dalton Samuels locked up long enough for his wife to take the kids and move on with their life."

Dean looked at her from across the kitchen. "You really think his absence will be enough to make her want to leave him? She hasn't left him so far."

"Maybe she can't."

"Maybe we should find out first."

Alex conceded his point. She already had a plan in her mind that was taking shape and she knew that it would work if all the other elements were right. She was startled from her thoughts by a sharp and desperate banging on the door. Dean stood in alarm and rushed from his chair, Alex close on his heels.

Dean was shocked to see Eric standing on the front porch, breathless and more surprising than that, in tears. He collapsed into Dean's arms and Dean stared up at Alex in shock. Alex shrugged, offering his a look of "I don't know what the hell to do".

"Oh god Dean," she said in horror. "He's bleeding!"

Dean looked to where she pointed and saw that blood was soaking through Eric's white undershirt. Dean summoned the nerve to lift the shirt and was horrified to see a stab wound spewing crimson liquid from it on the kid's side.

"Shit," he spat. "Alex call an ambulance!"

Alex rushed from the room.

"I'm sorry," Eric told him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

Dean's heart wrenched. "It's okay. Just do me a favor and don't die okay? Nobody's dying on my watch."

"I stood up to him. I saw what you did, at the garage. How you just stood up to him and I wondered why I never tried," Eric gasped. "Now I know why."

Eric's breath came in gasps and they were worsened by the sobs that kept bubbling up from deep within the wounded child. Dean's mind raced. If his father had done this to him then what was he planning to do to the rest of the family? Had Dalton Samuels finally become unhinged enough to do the unthinkable?

"Alex!" he roared from the entry hall. "Call the police!"

He hugged Eric for all he was worth, rocking the injured kid back and forth and trying desperately to stop the flow of blood that was now covering both him and Eric. In the distance sirens wailed.

"Come on Eric," he begged. "Stay with me. You're stronger than this, you can beat it. Your sister needs you."

Alex returned to the entry hall, still clutching the phone and stared at the scene before her. Her heart felt like it was ripping from her chest and she had to summon all her strength just to move past Dean and Eric to guide the paramedics in to help. She felt as though time had accelerated to a frenetic pace. Everything was happening so fast and her brain was having trouble processing all of the events at once. When she looked at the swirling ambulance lights she thought she saw them meld together into one continues flashing of color. She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes, and desperately tried to regain control of herself.

Dean stood and Alex saw the fury in his eyes as the paramedics moved Eric onto a gurney and began yelling back and forth. They rushed him out the door and Dean was left behind, covered in the kid's blood.

"Let's go," he grated.

Dean pulled the Impala into the driveway of the small, yellow painted house with white trim with a squeal of tires. He jumped out, not even bothering to shut off his beloved car, and raced to the front door with Alex hot on his heels.

"You told the police to come here right?" he asked as he pushed open the front door.

"Yes," she replied. "They should be on their way."

Dean entered the house and could see the wreckage that Dalton had wrought in the kitchen. Alex listened carefully and heard the unmistakable sound of a child's sobs coming from a door down the hall to the right. Dean nodded at her and she moved to the kitchen while he took off for the bedroom.

Alex quickly found Eric's mom lying in a corner amid the broken glass of a vase that Dalton had apparently decided belonged upside her head. Alex removed her hooded jacket and rushed to the injured woman, kneeling on the glass and gritting her teeth as it pushed its way through her camo Capri's and bit through her flesh.

"Mrs. Samuels?"

Alex pushed the sleeve of her jacket against a nasty cut that would require stitches on the woman's forehead and slid her arm underneath her back. Alex knew she didn't have her demonic strength anymore but here was enough adrenaline pumping through her system she was almost certain she could have lifted the back end of the Impala right now if she wanted to. She lifted the woman into her arms and moved out of the kitchen just as the police came speeding up to the house. An ambulance followed behind them, apparently along for the ride in case there were any more injuries. Dean returned from the bedroom with a young girl of about nine in his arms. She clung to his neck as if it were her last lifeline. She was a beautiful child, with long black hair that curled slightly and haunted green eyes. Alex met Dean's eyes and she was stunned to see the pain in them. His own green eyes were a mess of emotions from pain to rage and she could see it all clearly. She was so lost in the chaos of the moment that she didn't even realize a paramedic had taken Mrs. Samuels from her and laid her on a gurney much like they had done for her son earlier in the day.

Alex was relieved to see that the daughter was unharmed, albeit terrified, and when the police tried to take her from Dean she began sobbing and refused to let go.

"It's alright," he told them. "Don't take her just yet."

"She's not hurt?" the police officer asked.

"No. She's just scared," Alex told him.

The officer nodded and moved to the kitchen to begin taking notes and pictures for evidence. Alex went to Dean and put her hand reassuringly on the girl's shoulder. She heard distantly the police saying that Dalton was not in the house. She knew they would find him. He couldn't have gotten very far and the emotion in the room implied he was not getting away with this atrocity.

Alex held the girl in the waiting room and watched the stream of injured people still waiting to be seen move past her. Dean paced furiously in front of her, anxiously awaiting any news from the doctors on the rest of her family's condition and the whereabouts of Dalton Samuels.

The police had allowed Alex and Dean to take Andrea to the hospital with the rest of her family. Alex was grateful because she didn't think the poor kid could handle anymore and even though she and Dean were virtual strangers Andrea seemed to feel safe with them. Alex didn't want to see her get put in a foster home while her mother recovered. Alex looked up as a police officer approached them and sat down next to Alex. Dean stopped pacing and joined them, kneeling close to Alex and putting his hand on the girl's arm in comfort.

"I just came to tell you that Dalton Samuels is in custody. We caught him trying to escape in one of the cars at his garage," the officer told them.

"Please tell me he's going to be rotting in jail for a long, long time," Alex said.

The officer smiled. "That bastard is going to be put away for as long as we can get the judge to hold him. I don't want him going free anytime soon anymore than you do. We've been waiting for the proof to put him away and now we finally have it."

"Any chance you might be able to drag him to a back alley for a few punches?" Dean asked, not at all kidding.

"Sorry, as much as I know half the police force and yourselves included would love that, I have to follow procedure. He's being booked as we speak. Trust me guys, he's not going anywhere. These kids are safe now and hopefully their mother will get them far away from here."

Alex nodded her agreement just as a white coated doctor walked up to join their mini-party.

"I hope you're bringing good news as well," the doctor told the officer. "Because I came to tell you that both the Samuels are going to be fine. It will be awhile before we can release Eric, but Mrs. Samuels should be able to leave within a few days."

"What's wrong with her?" Alex asked.

"Several lacerations from broken glass, a dislocated shoulder, sprained ankle, and broken wrist," the doctor replied, reading from his clipboard.

"And Eric is going to make it?" Dean asked, although the doctor had already said that.

"Yes. He'll be fine. There will be scarring, of course, but he's going to walk away from this with his life."

"That's good," Dean said, relief flooding his voice.

"Officer, who do we have to talk to in order to keep Andrea from going to a foster home while her mother recovers?" Alex asked.

"You would have to talk to me," a woman said.

"Wow it's getting crowded over here," Dean muttered.

The woman was dressed in a blue suit with chocolate brown hair piled up on top of her head neatly. She wore glasses but the eyes behind them were kind and Alex found that she liked the woman immediately.

"My name is Shannon Lesner and I'm from Social Services. I can see that Andrea here has taken a liking to the two of you. Can I ask how you know her?"

"It's a very long story but we know her through her brother, who we've had run ins with," Alex said.

Shannon nodded. "What did you have in mind for keeping Andrea?"

"Well, I have a friend that will be coming back into town in a few hours that she could stay with. Or she could stay with us until her mother is ready to leave. It's whatever Andrea wants," Alex replied.

"I'd have to make a few phone calls to confirm it but I think that we can make that happen. I don't want her to go through anymore than she has to and she seems perfectly comfortable where she's at," Shannon said, indicating where Andrea had fallen sound asleep on Alex's lap.

"Just let us know," Dean said. He turned to the doctor. "Is it alright to go see Eric?"

The doctor hesitated. "He's a little drugged up right now but I suppose a few minutes should be fine."

Dean gave Alex a quick kiss on the cheek and turned to follow the doctor.

Dean shut the hospital door behind him and smiled at Eric as he sat down in the chair next to the bed. He was stricken by how young Eric looked lying in that bed, all the anger and hate just washed out of him. The kid only looked hurt and confused now.

"They caught your dad," he told him. "He's going to jail."

"Good," Eric said. "I hope he dies there."

Dean nodded. "You can't stay angry for the rest of your life. You have to move on and help your family start over."

"I can hate him for the rest of my life can't I? Look what he did!"

"You can hate him," Dean allowed. "Just as long as you don't let that hate carry over to others who are innocent of any crime."

Dean looked at him pointedly to remind him of how his hate had almost killed innocent people. Eric stared at his sheets and shame washed across his features.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I was just so angry . . . .I didn't know what to do."

"I understand," Dean said. "But this is your chance to start over. You can do well in school now and go to college, be somebody. You don't have to follow in your dad's footsteps. You can be great."

"But I'm still a freak," Eric said.

"No. You have a gift. Not that I'm saying use it in public or anything, but you have an ability that you can use to help people instead of hurt them. You just have to use it responsibly. And there's nothing wrong with us freaks."

"You have a gift too?"

"Yeah. I help people like you," Dean told him.

"Thanks man. I didn't think I'd ever get a chance at a real life," Eric said.

"You have a thousand chances now. Just make sure your mom finds a good man."

Eric nodded. "Or no man at all."

Dean laughed. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. He scribbled his cell phone number on it and handed it to Eric.

"If you ever need us call this number. For anything," Dean told him firmly.

Eric took the number and stared at it as though someone had just handed him a thousand dollars. Dean realized that Eric had never had friends, never had anybody that he could trust and count on to be there for him. This really was his second chance and the thought that someone would be there along the way if he needed help was a notion he had never conceived of before.

"Dean?" Eric said as Dean turned to leave.

"What?"

"You've got a great girlfriend," he said hesitantly. "Don't let her go."

"Trust me buddy," Dean laughed. "I don't plan to."

_Two Days Later . . ._

Heather's house was a little crowded from the sudden influx of guests that had made it their home for the last few days. Alex wandered down the stairs early that morning and found Heather in the kitchen making pancakes and coffee. She looked into the living room where her little sister was curled up on the couch with Andrea, a red blanket over their laps. They were watching early Saturday morning cartoons and the completely normal scene brought a smile to Alex's lips. Upstairs she could hear the shower running and figured it was one of the three males in the house. Heather's husband had come home with her when Alex had given her the call about the Samuels.

"Smells good," Alex commented, pulling out one of the kitchen chairs to sit down.

"It's been awhile since we've had this much company," Heather laughed.

She brought a steaming mug of coffee to the table and put it in front of Alex who was browsing through the morning paper. A headline on the third page caught her attention and she stopped to study it closer. **"Mysterious Murders in Small-town Missouri" **it read and Alex leaned closer to read the words accompanying the headline.

"A rash of unexplained deaths in Mill Springs, Missouri has left local authorities stumped. Seven young men, between the ages of 17-25, have been convicted of murdering at least two people per individual but are no longer alive for trial. Each male has been found dead a few short hours after the murders and by all estimations the cause of death could not be explained . . ."

Alex raised an eyebrow and made a mental note of the town for later use. She smiled as the Winchester brothers entered the kitchen, both freshly showered and shaved. She felt a sudden surge of emotion for both of them and was shocked to look deeper inside herself and realize that to her, this was family. Sarah had filled her in on what had happened with Sam and she was happy for her youngest sister. She knew Sam would never hurt Sarah and that's all an older sister could want. Alex knew that Sarah would learn to control her new power and the advice she had gotten from Allison would only help that. She was only slightly jealous that Sarah had received the visit from Allison but she knew that Allison wouldn't have come if she wasn't needed. She was as certain as Sarah that neither one of them had seen the last of Allison.

"Whatcha reading?" Sam asked, coming over to peer over her shoulder while Dean piled pancakes onto the plate he had retrieved from the cabinet.

"Maybe our next job," she replied, handing the paper to him.

He settled down in the chair across from her to read while she went to refill her now empty coffee mug. She smiled at Dean as she passed and he grabbed her waist, swinging her back around to plant a quick kiss on her lips before releasing her again. Heather rolled her eyes and laughed to herself, glad to see that her friend was finally approaching a place of happiness in her life.

"You guys are leaving again?" she asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied, looking up from the paper. "We always do."

Heather nodded and handed him a plate of pancakes. Sarah came into the kitchen with Andrea in tow. She set the younger girl down at the table and kissed Sam on top of his head before joining her sister at the coffee machine.

Sarah was hit by the pangs of longing as she poured her coffee. Elsewhere in the room she could feel that all four of her companions were feeling the same way. The scene here was so normal, so happy and content, and was something that none of them had experienced in a long time. She could feel that Sam didn't want to leave; he wanted to have this kind of life more than anything in the world. Just getting up in the morning with nothing better to do than pour a cup of coffee and read the newspaper. Next to her Alex met her eye and smiled softly, an expression that told Sarah that her older sister knew exactly how she was feeling. Sarah smiled back but it was a forced smile. She knew that within a few hours they would be on the road again, heading into the darkness that so ruled their lives without looking back. A part of her wanted to stay here where it was sunny and safe. It didn't seem to her that the darkness could creep into this kitchen and steal the safety net away.

Sam handed the paper off to his brother after pointing out the article and Sarah went to her new boyfriend, burying herself in his arms for comfort. He kissed the crown of her head and obliged to holding her close. Dean met Alex's eye from across the kitchen and the two shared a smile. Dean was extremely happy that Sam had finally found someone to hold onto and share this part of his life with. They had been through many towns with many girls coming into and out of their lives. Dean had always wanted Sammy to be happy and he could see that he was when he was with Sarah. They were fast becoming a family, each one tied to the other in some way, and Dean realized how powerful they were together. Two psychics, one former half demon, a hardcore hunter; they were stronger together and Dean had the sudden feeling that the things they hunted with a half brain would know this too. Sarah looked up at him suddenly as worry clouded his mind and met his eye. He realized that she was reading his emotion like an open book and he quickly composed himself and shut out the worry that was beginning to naw at his thoughts. She made a subtle motion for the older Winchester to follow her and he complied, letting her lead him into the living room where no one else was present.

"What's on your mind, Dean?" she asked.

He realized this was one of the first times they had talked alone together since they had met. She had evolved so quickly from a frightened young girl into a powerful woman and he looked at her anew. College life had changed her and the change was recognizable. She stood taller and the hesitancy in her stance was long gone. Confidence came off her in waves and Dean was glad that she had come to peace with who she was and what she could do.

"I was just thinking about our little quartet," he said.

Sarah smiled. "What about it?"

"We're strong together and that's something the things we fight are going to take note of," he replied.

"Probably," she agreed. "But if we're stronger together then is it really something we have to worry about? Kind of makes me think of that old saying, 'Together we stand, divided we fall'."

"I don't know. Maybe we don't," he said. "Maybe we do."

She reached out and pulled him into a sisterly hug. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Dean. Just enjoy the moment."

He returned the hug and together they walked back into the kitchen.

Alex threw the last of their bags into the trunk of her Nova. The social worker had come a few hours earlier to return Andrea to her mother. Eric was going to be released from the hospital tomorrow and have a second chance at his life. Behind her car Dean was doing the same with their bags and on the stairs Sarah was saying goodbye to Heather.

Alex slammed the trunk closed and went to join her sister.

"I wish you didn't have to leave again," Heather said wistfully.

"I know," Alex replied. "But we have work to do."

"There's always work," Heather said. "Always somebody in trouble. Aren't you ever going to settle down?"

"Maybe when I'm too old to throw a punch," Alex laughed.

"Yeah, like that will ever happen," Sarah threw in.

Alex hugged her old friend close and stepped back. "You don't have to worry about us. We'll be fine."

"I know," Heather said. "Just come back and see me when you have time."

"We will," Sarah told her.

Sarah turned with her sister and walked back to the Nova, ready and waiting for the next job. Behind them Dean and Sam stood ready to get into the Impala.

"Are we going our separate ways again?" Sam asked.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so. We're stronger together, remember?"

Sam laughed. "So then where to next?"

"Mill Springs, Missouri," Alex replied, opening her door. "We'll race ya."

The young man watched the two cars roar off down the quiet suburban street and reached for his cell phone. He stood behind the comfortable shade of a large oak tree across the street, where prying eyes could not easily pick him out. Even if they did it would just appear as though he were trying to get out of the sun for a few minutes.

"Report," a woman's voice said from the other end.

"Everything is in place," he told her.

"Very good," she said. "And the father?"

"Last report has him located in Florida," the man replied.

"Perfect," the woman purred. "Together they stand, divided they _will _fall."

The man laughed. "Hard."


End file.
